


Michael Mell: Ace Attorney

by baileek313



Series: Broadway Attorney [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Hamilton - Miranda, Wicked - Schwartz/Holzman, 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Ace Attorney AU, Broadway AU, F/M, Jeremy is a little shit, M/M, but we love him anyway, eliza is the only responsible one a majority of the time, michael is irrational sometimes but it works out, musical AU, tags will be added as the story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-01-26 02:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 129,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12547000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baileek313/pseuds/baileek313
Summary: Michael Mell is a rookie defense attorney fresh off the bar. As he makes his way through the first year of being a lawyer, he  attempts to get his clients declared "not guilty" while trying to solve their accused crimes with his boss's sister, Eliza Schuyler. However, dark shadows loom overhead as Michael is pitted against a former friend in the courtroom. From acquitting a long-time friend to facing off the Demon Prosecutor in court, Michael is ready to face them all as dark events from fifteen years ago start to rear their ugly heads. There's one thing for certain; Michael Mell is ready to find the truth behind every action.





	1. The First Turnabout

**Author's Note:**

> this started out as a thought i had while messing around with a heathers costume i was making for halloween. yeah i don't know how I got to this point. All characters that are tagged are major characters in the plot. So, witnesses and killers and victims will not be tagged unless they reappear later in the games. I hope you all enjoy the first case of Michael Mell: Ace Attorney!

_Dammit! … Why me? I can't get caught… Not like this! I-I've gotta find someone to pin this on... Someone like… him! I'll make it look like HE did it!_  
  
****

* * *

**August 3 , 2016  
** ****

**9:47 AM**

******District Court** **  
** ****

**Defendant Lobby No. 2**

The insistent tapping of a young woman’s foot could be heard throughout the defendant’s lobby. Veteran Defense Attorney Angelica Schuyler stared out the window. Her eyes were narrowed considerably. He was supposed to be at the courthouse over an half an hour ago. Now, the trial was to start in only thirteen minutes. Needless to say, the attorney was more irritated that she had ever been while working before.

As if on cue, the doors to the lobby burst open. Angelica turned her head as her young colleague strolled into the room. The sound of his hums filled the place as he entered, dancing on his toes. Headphones were over his ears and an old backpack stained by permanent marker was slung over his shoulders. He looked pleased with himself. Angelica snatched up a discarded newspaper from off one of the plush chairs.

“Mell…” said Angelica. Her frustration only grew when her latest and only other member of her law team kept on humming, keeping in time with the beat.

“Angie, my chief, How's it hanging? Morning's bangin'. Had my breakfast, weather’s perfect and more!” said the young attorney, dancing around Angelica as he sang to the beat of his music.

“You're listening to Bob Marley again, aren't you?” Angelica asked him. her response was already obvious.

“Ohhhh, I'm listenin' to Marley, and the groove is soundin' gnarly, and we're almost at the end of this song! Yeah, that was the end, now tell me Chief,” the attorney stopped singing and took off his headphones, leaving them around his neck. “How's it going? You look like groaning, what's wrong?” Angelica stared at him before rolling up the paper in her hand and smacking him upside the head with it. “Hey!”

“I hope you’re satisfied with yourself, Michael Mell. You're late!” Angelica said. “We're supposed to be in the courtroom in ten minutes.”

“Oh.” Michael avoided meeting Angelica’s gaze, his eyes darting all over the room from behind his glasses as he spoke. “Whoops.”

“Michael…”

“I lost track of time.” If Angelica had been able to detect lies, she would have picked up on Michael’s right then and there. If she knew that he had actually forgot that the trial started at 10:30 instead of 10:00, he would find himself reprimanded to no tomorrow.

“You'll be the death of me,” Angelica said with a heavy sigh.

“Come on, Angie. Have a little faith in me.”

“I do. Otherwise, I wouldn't have hired you.” Michael blinked, staring at his boss.

“Eh? Really?”

“Really,” Angelica said with a nod. “I have to say Michael, I'm impressed! Not everyone takes on a murder case right off the bat like this. It says a lot about you... and your client as well.” Michael semi-reinstated the chipper attitude he had when he first walked into the courthouse.

“Um... thanks. I think,” said Michael, once again making eye contact with Angelica. “Actually, it's because I owe him a favor.” His boss stared at him, an eyebrow raised.

“A favor?” she repeated. Michael nodded proudly. “You mean, you know the defendant personally?”

“Yeah. I kinda owe him my current job. He's one of the reasons I became an attorney.”

_Well, he’s the one who got the idea in my head and supported me through it after a little talk, but still a reason nonetheless. Just not the main reason._

“Well, this is news to me!” said Angelica, laughing into the palm of her hand.

“I want to help him in every way I can,” Michael replied enthusiastically. The thought of where he was crossed his mind. He cleared his throat before continuing. “I just… really want to help him. I owe him a lot.”

_He did help pay for me to go to law school, after all. Maybe if I get him a not guilty verdict, then I won’t have to pay him back!_

Michael’s train of thought was interrupted by the doors behind him opening. The sound of someone’s distressed screams pulled him out of the train completely.

“It's over! My life, everything, it's all over!” Angelica looked past Michael at who was entering the defendant’s lobby.

“... Isn't that your client screaming over there?” she asked.

“Yeah…” Michael replied, “that's him.” He didn’t even have to turn around to tell who it was.

“Death! Despair! Ohhhh! I'm gonna do it, I'm gonna die!!!”

“It sounds like he wants to die…”

“Um, yeah.” Michael sighed, running a hand back through his hair. The security pushed the defendant into the lobby. His client leaned up against Michael, gripping his jacket like his life depended on it.

“Michael!” Michael put a hand on his client's shoulder.

“Hey there, Rich,” said Michael. He patted his friend before gently pushing him off.

“Dude, I'm so guilty!! Tell them I'm guilty!!! Gimme the death sentence! I ain't afraid to die!” Michael blinked. This wasn’t like Rich. Maybe the small amount of time he had spent at the detention center was starting to get to him.

“Rich, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, it's all over... I... I'm finished. Finished! I can't live in a world without him! I can't! Who... who took him away from me, Michael? Who did this!? Aww, Michael, ya gotta tell me! Who took my baby away!?” Rich shook Michael by his shoulders. It was hard enough to almost make the attorney’s glasses slide off his face.

_Hmm... The person responsible for your boyfriend's death? The newspapers say it was you..._

* * *

_My name is Michael Mell. Here's the story: My first case is a fairly simple one. A young man was killed in his apartment. The guy they arrested was the unlucky sap dating him: Rich Goranski... my friend since high school. Our school had a saying: "Just as I thought… Goranski’s at the bottom of this mess". In the all years I've known him, it's usually been true. He has a knack for getting himself in trouble. One thing I can say though: it's usually not his fault. He just has terrible luck. But I know better than anyone, that he's a good guy at heart when he tries. That and I owe him one. Which is why I took the case... to clear his name. And that's just what I'm going to do!_

* * *

 

**August 3, 2016**

**10:00 AM**

**District Court**

**Courtroom No. 2**

 

Michael stood behind the bench. Angelica was standing by his side. The obvious notice between the two was that Michael was shaking like a leaf. He began to fiddle with the headphones around his neck. He wanted to put them on and block out the world. Unfortunately, with a life on the line, he really couldn’t just back away from everything.

“The court is now in session for the trial of Mr. Rich Goranski,” said the Judge.

“The prosecution is ready, Your Honor,” responded the prosecutor on the other side of the room. Michael didn’t take any heed to either of them.

“The um… defense is ready, Your Honor,” Michael chimed in.

“Mr. Mell?” Michael glanced up at the Judge as he spoke. “This is your first trial, is it not?” Swallowing down something in his throat, Michael nodded.

“Y-Yes, Your Honor.” Michael pulled at the tie around his neck. Had it always been so hot in here? “I’m… um… a little nervous.”

“Your conduct during this trial will decide the fate of your client. Murder is a serious charge. For your client’s sake, I hope you can control your nerves.”

“Thank…” Michael drew in a deep breath to calm himself. “Thank you, Your Honor.”

“Mr. Mell, given the circumstances, I think we should have a test to ascertain your readiness.”

“Y-Yes, Your Honor.” Michael’s voice cracked. He swallowed down something rising in his throat.

_Hands shaking... Eyesight... fading..._

Michael put his hand on Angelica’s shoulder. His fingernails dug into the fabric of her jacket.

“Angie, I think I’m going to throw up,” he said in a low tone. Angelica put her hand on his back.

“Michael, calm down,” she said in a reassuring tone. “Remember. Take deep breaths.”

_Fun fact about me. I had completely forgotten about my anxiety disorder when making up my mind for my career path. But… I have to do this._

“This test will consist of a few simple questions,” continued the Judge. Michael was having a hard time paying attention. “Answer them clearly and concisely. Please state the name of the defendant in the case.”

_Oh, this is an easy one!_

“The defendant?” Michael repeated. His Honor nodded. “W-Well, that's Rich Goranski, Your Honor.”

“Correct. Just keep your wits about you and you'll do fine. Next question: This is a murder trial. Tell me, what's the victim's name?”

_Whew, I know this one! Glad I read the case report cover to cover so many times. It's... wait... Uh-oh! No... no way! I forgot! I'm drawing a total blank here!_

“Michael!” Michael snapped out of his thoughts and looked over to Angelica. If he had been gripping her bare skin, he would be drawing blood. He let go and took a small step away. From now on, the bench would have to endure the brutality of his nails.

“Are you absolutely _sure_ you're up to this?” whispered Angelica harshly, “You don't even know the victim's name!?”

“Oh, the victim! O-Of course I know the victim's name! I, um, just forgot,” Michael stuttered. Angelica’s gaze bore into him. “... Temporarily.” She groaned, pressing her fingers to her temples.

“I think I feel a migraine coming on. Look, the victim's name is listed in the court records’ profiles.” Angelica slid a file forward to Michael. He picked it up, glancing over to her. “Remember to check it often. Do it for me, please. I'm begging you.”

“Mr. Mell.” Michael looked back up at the Judge again. “Who is the victim in this case?”

“Um... the victim… right…” Michael opened the file in front of him. Luckily he didn’t have to shuffle through; the victim’s autopsy report was the first to show up. “The victim's name is… Ned Vizzini.” The Judge nodded. Michael silently cheered.

“Correct,” the Judge continued. “Now, tell me, what was the cause of death? He died because he was...?” Michael took another glance down at the court record again.

“He was… struck once in the back of the head by a heavy, blunt object.”

“Correct. You've answered all my questions.” Michael released a pent-up breath he didn’t ven realize he was holding. “I see no reason why we shouldn't proceed. You seem much more relaxed, Mr. Mell. Good for you.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.”

 _Because I don't_ feel _relaxed, that's for sure. I still feel like puking._

“Well, then... First, a question for the prosecution. As Mr. Mell just told us, the victim was struck with a blunt object. Would you explain to the court just what that ‘object’ was?” The prosecutor sent a nod to the Judge.

“The murder weapon was this statue of ‘the Thinker,’ said the man. He pulled out a statue from his bench. “It was found lying on the floor, next to the victim.

“I see... the court accepts it into evidence.” The statue was placed on a table in the middle of the courtroom.

“Mell…” Michael’s attention turned to Angelica. “Be sure to pay attention to any evidence added during the trial. That evidence is the only ammunition you have in court.” Michael nodded in response.

“Got it.” Now the trial had truly started.

“The prosecution may call its first witness,” said the Judge from upon his stand.

“The prosecution calls the defendant, Mr. Goranski, to the stand.” Michael’s mind drew to a blank as he watched Rich take the witness’s stand.

“Um, Chief, what do I do now?” he asked Angelica.

“Pay attention,” replied the woman, “You don't want to miss any information that might help your client's case. You'll get your chance to respond to the prosecution later, so be ready! Let's just hope he doesn't say anything... unfortunate.” Michael dug his fingers into the bench.

_Uh oh. Like the short puppy he is, Rice gets excited easily... this could be bad._

The prosecutor cleared his throat before starting his tirade on Rich.

“Mr. Goranski,” began the prosecutor, “Is it not true that the victim had recently dumped you?”

“Hey, watch it buddy! We were great together!” Rich snapped. “We were Romeo and Juliet, Cleopatra and Marc Anthony!” Michael stared at his friend with a growing aggravated look.

_Um... didn't they all die?_

“I wasn't dumped!” Rich continued, “He just wasn't taking my phone calls. Or seeing me... Ever. WHAT'S IT TO YOU, ANYWAY!?”

“Mr. Goranski, what you describe is generally what we mean by ‘dumped.’ In fact, he had completely abandoned you... and was seeing other people!” Michael bit down on his lip to fight back a curse. “He had just returned from overseas with one of them the day before the murder!”

“Whaddya mean, ‘one of them’!? Lies! All of it, lies! I don't believe a word of it!” Rich was leaning over the witness standing, burning holes into the prosecutor. Michael knew that this was an attitude left over his high school days.

“Your Honor, the victim's passport.” The prosecutor held up the item in question. “According to this, he was in Paris until the day before he died.” The prosecutor passed the passport up to the judge. The bearded man scanned it.

“Hmm... Indeed, he appears to have returned the day before the murder.” Rich’s face drained of all color.

“Dude…” he said, “no way…”

“The victim was a writer,” said the prosecution, “but did not have a large income. It appears that he had several ‘Sugar Daddies.’” Color was rapidly returned to Rich’s face. Soon, it was as red as the streak in his dirty blonde hair.

“Daddies? Sugar?!” Michael put his face into his hands. This was not going well.

“Yes. Older people who gave him money and gifts. He took their money and used it to support his lifestyle.”

“Duuude!”

“We can clearly see what kind of man this Mr. Vizzini was. Tell me, Mr. Goranski, what do you think of him now?”

“Mell…” said Angelica, nudging Michael with her arm. “I don't think you want him to answer that question.” Rich’s hands were balled up and shaking.

_Yeah... Rich has a way of running his mouth in all the wrong directions. Should I...? I should._

Michael slammed his hands down on his desk, pointing an accusatory finger at the prosecution.

“My client had no idea the victim was seeing other people!” he said. “That question is irrelevant to this case!” The prosecutor winced at the stab in his line of questioning.

“Dude! Michael! Whaddya mean, ‘irrelevant’!?” shouted Rich. Michael repeated the phrase _Shut up Rich_ in his head. “That cheatin' bastard!” Rich dropped his face into his hands before panicking again. “I'm gonna die. I'm just gonna drop dead! Yeah, and when I meet him in the afterlife... I'm going to get to the bottom of this!” The courtroom was silent before the Judge cleared his throat.

“Let’s continue with the trial,” he said, “shall we?” His answer was unanimous.

“I believe the accused’s motive is clear to everyone,” said the prosecutor.

“Yes, quite.” Michael pulled on his tie to loosen it even more. It felt like it kept getting tighter and tighter, no matter what he did.

_Oh boy. This is so not looking good._

“Next question!” Michael snapped up as the prosecutor spoke. “You went to the victim's apartment on the day of the murder, did you not?” It was Rich’s turn to look like the one who was about to vomit all over the courtroom floor. “Well, did you, or did you not?”

“Well, maybe I did, and maybe I didn't!” Rich laughed nervously. Michael knew what that look and that behavior meant.

_Uh oh. He went. What do I do?_

“Um, well, see, it's like this,” Rich said, hesitating at every chance he got. “I don't remember.”

“You ‘don't remember’?” repeated the prosecutor. Rich nodded. “Well then, we'll just have to remind you!” Michael felt a pit drop into his stomach.

_I got a bad feeling about this…_

“We have a witness that can prove he _did_ go to the victim's apartment that day!”

“Well, that simplifies matters,” said the satisfied Judge. “Who is your witness?”

“The man who found the victim's body. Just before making the gruesome discovery... He saw the defendant fleeing the scene of the crime!” Michael’s eyes widened as the members of the court’s gallery went into an uproar.  The Judge banged his gavel to call back attention.

“Order! Order in the court! The prosecution may call its witness.”

“Yes, Your Honor.” Michael swallowed down bile in his throat. Rich was removed from the witness stand and back to the defendant’s seat forcibly by a bailiff.

_This is bad…_

“On the day of the murder, my witness was at the victim’s building,” said the prosecutor. “Please bring Mr. Joe Iconis to the stand!” A well-dressed man took the stands. The prosecution pounced on him immediately.

“Mr. Iconis, you lived in the same building as the victim, is this correct?” Iconis nodded as the prosecution's question.

“Yes,” he stated simply.

“Mr. Iconis, you may proceed with your testimony,” ordered the Judge. “Please tell the court what you saw on the day of the murder.” The witness nodded. Michael leaned up on the bench. He had to pay attention to this.

“I was walking home from the store that day when I saw a man fleeing an apartment,” Iconis began. “I thought he must be in a hurry because he left the door open behind him. I thought it was strange, so I looked inside. Then I saw him lying there. A man. Not moving. Dead! I was frozen and found myself unable to go inside. I thought to call the police immediately. However, the phone in his apartment wasn’t working. I went to a nearby park and used the public payphone there. I remember the time exactly. It was 12:00 P.M. The man who ran was, without a doubt, the defendant sitting right over there.” Iconis pointed over at Rich, who paled and sunk back into his seat. Michael ran his hands down his face. He wanted to slam his hands on the bench.

_Rich! I can't defend you against a testimony like that! Argh!_

“Incidentally, why wasn't the phone in the victim's apartment working?” asked the Judge. The prosecution revealed another piece of evidence that was concealed behind his bench.

“Your Honor, at the time of the murder, there was a blackout in the building,” he said.

“Aren’t phones supposed to work during a blackout?”

“Yes, Your Honor. However, some cordless phones do not function normally. The phone that Mr. Iconis used was one of those. Your Honor, I have a record of the blackout for your perusal.” The blackout record was added, open, to the evidence table. Michael leaned up on his toes to get over the bench enough just to get a look at the times.

“Now, Mr. Mell…” Michael looked up at the Judge, landing flat back on his feet.

“Yes!” The tone of his voice echoed off of the walls of the courtroom. “Erm… I mean… yes, Your Honor?”

“You may begin your cross-examination.” Michael gazed at him blankly.

“My what examination?” Angelica nudged Michael again to nab his attention.

“Mell, this is it,” she said. Michael pushed back his hair.

“It would be if I knew what I was supposed to do,” he said in a whisper. “What am I supposed to do?” His nerves were starting to effect his memory. Michael couldn’t bring up any mention of cross-examinations from law school lectures.

“Expose the lies in the witness’s testimony.”

“Lies? Wait, he was lying?!”

“Your client is innocent, right? Michael glanced over at Rich. He was as innocent as he could get, which wasn’t very much to begin with. “Then the witness must have lied in his testimony. Or is your client really guilty?” Michael shook his head instantly.

“Exactly how do I prove that he’s not?”

“You hold the key. It’s all in the evidence.” Michael looked over at the evidence table. “Find the contradictions between his testimony and the evidence. Once you’ve found the contradicting evidence, present it and rub it in the witness’s face.” Michael blinked.

“Um… okay.”

_Contradictions? But that testimony as flawless! Or at least… I think so. Angelica on the other hand… Hmm… If Rich is innocent, then there has to be something wrong with the testimony… Huh? Wait a minute._

Michael looked down at the file he had been given at the beginning of the trial. The autopsy report popped out at him. The estimated time of death was 4:00 P.M.

“You found the body at 12:00 PM,” said Michael, looking over to Iconis, “You're sure?” Iconis radiated with an aura of confidence.

“Yes,” said the witness. “It was 12:00 P.M. I’m positive.” Michael smirked.

“Frankly, I find that hard to believe! Your statement directly contradicts the autopsy report.” Michael held up the report in his hand. “The autopsy notes the time of death at sometime after 4PM. There was nobody to... er... no "body" to find at 12:00 PM! How do you explain this four-hour gap?”

“Oh that? Oh… er…” Before Michael could continue to pry open the hole, the prosecution called out a mortally wounding “OBJECTION”.

“This is trivial!” said the prosecutor. “The witness merely forgot the time!”

“After his testimony, I find that hard to believe,” said the Judge. Michael grinned. The balance was starting to slowly shift in his favor. “Mr. Iconis, why are you so certain that you found the body at 12:00 P.M.?”

“I… well… Th-That’s a really good question!” said Iconis.

“Great job, Mell. Way to put him on the spot!” Angelica’s praise made Michael’s smile grow brighter. “Point out the contradictions. Lies always generate more lies. You see through one, and their whole story falls to pieces.”

“Wait!” said Iconis, slamming his hands down on the witness stand. “I remember now!”

_Of course you do._

“Well then,” said the Judge. “Would you care to give your testimony again?” Iconis nodded. Michael leaned up against the bench. Time to create another hole.

“You see, when I found the body, I heard the time. There was a voice saying the time,” said Iconis, modifying his testimony. “It was probably coming from the television. But it was four hours off, wasn’t it? I guess the victim must have been watching a video of a taped program! That’s why I thought it was 12:00 P.M.! I’m terribly sorry for the misunderstanding…”

“Hmm... I see. You heard a voice saying the time on a taped program. Mr. Mell, you may cross-examine the witness.”

“Notice anything suspicious?” said Angelica. Michael nodded.

“You bet I can,” he whispered back.

_He forgot one piece of evidence that we went over._

Michael felt the satisfaction flow through him as his point at Iconis and called out his very first:

“OBJECTION!” Michael shouted. “The prosecution has stated that there was blackout at the time when the body was found.” He crossed out from the bench and picked up the blackout report from the evidence table. “This record proves it.” Iconis’s reaction was just what Michael was looking for. “You couldn’t have heard a television, much less a video.”

“I… well…” Iconis avoided looking towards the attorney.

“The defense has a point,” said the Judge. Michael felt more confident with that bout of praise. He walked back over to the bench with a proud smirk on his face. “Do you have an explanation for this, Mr. Iconis?”

“No, I… I find it quite curious myself!” Iconis stumbled. Michael could feel him cracking. “W-Wait! I remember now!”

“Mr. Iconis? The court would prefer to hear an accurate testimony from the very beginning. These constant corrections are harming your credibility. That, and you seem rather… distraught.” Michael could see the sweat running down Iconis’s brow.

“M-My apologies,” the witness stuttered. “It, er, it must have been the shock of finding the body!”

“Very well, Mr. Iconis. Let's hear your testimony once more please.”

“I didn’t hear the time. I saw it!” said Iconis. “There was a table clock in the apartment, wasn’t there? Yeah, the murder weapon! The… The killer used it to hit the victim! That must have been what I saw.”

“You saw a clock?” the Judge asked. Iconis nodded, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. “I guess that would explain it. The defense may cross-examine the witness.” Michael nodded.

“Gladly,” said the rookie.

“Now, find the contradiction!” said Angelica. Michael looked over at the evidence table. Iconis’s testimony playing through in his head on a loop.

 _Let’s see. What evidence proves that he’s lying… Huh?_ Michael’s eyes fell on the statue. _The statue…? Wait!_

“OBJECTION!” Michael said out loud. “The murder weapon wasn't a clock. It was this statue! Now how is this supposed to be a clock?”

“What?!” shouted Iconis. “Y-You with your objections and your evidence. Just who do you think you are?!” Michael pushed back hair that had fallen in his face.

“Answer the question, Iconis.”

“I… I saw it there, okay! That’s a clock!”

“Your honor,” piped up the prosecution. he had been so quiet Michael had forgotten that he was there. “If I may. As the witness stated, the statue is indeed a clock. The neck is a switch. You just tilt it and it says the time out loud. As it doesn’t look like a clock, it was submitted as a statue. My apologies.” Michael groaned. There just went one piece of his cross-examination out the window.

“I see,” said the Judge. “The murder weapon was a table clock after all. Well, Mr. Mell?” Michael glanced up at the stand. “It appears that the witness’s testimony was correct. The murder weapon is a clock after all. Do you have any problems with his testimony now?” Michael sighed. There was no contradiction he could see. He began messing with the cord of his headphones. He just couldn’t see it.

“I guess not. There was a clock on the scene so…” Before Michael could finish his sentence, the sharp end of someone’s heel dug into his foot. Michael covered his mouth to keep himself from shouting. He looked over to the culprit. Angelica.

“Michael, are you out of your mind?!” she said in a harsh whisper. He was starting to think so. “That clock doesn’t look like a clock at all! The witness couldn’t have possibly known it was a clock just by seeing it. He said himself, he never entered the apartment. It was in his testimony!” Michael played back Iconis’s previous testimony in his head.

_She’s right._

“Is something the matter?” asked the Judge when he saw the two conversing with one another. “Does the defense have something to add?”

“Yes,” said Michael. “Yes I do. As my co-counsel has pointed out to me, the only way the witness could have known the weapon was a clock is to hold it in his hand. Yet, the witness testified that he never entered the apartment. So, clearly, it's a contradiction.”

“Indeed it is.” Eyes fell on Iconis. Michael could feel that he was close to snapping. He just had to push further.

“The witness knew it was a clock because he went into the apartment.” Michael turned on the witness. “You’re lying. You went into the apartment on the day of the murder!”

“Oh yeah?” said Iconis through his teeth. “Prove it! Prove I went in there!” Michael felt a smirk creep up.

“I can do one better than that. I can prove that you were the one who murder Ned Vizzini. You were the one who struck him with the clock and that blow triggered the clock’s voice. That was the sound you heard!” Uproar echoed throughout the court. Michael could feel victory on his fingertips. He just had to get Iconis to snap somehow.

“Order in the court!” shouted the Judge. The din slowly died down. “Intriguing. Please continue, Mr. Mell.”

“Yes, your Honor.” Michael leaned up on the bench. “Mr. Iconis. The sound must have left quite an impression on you.” There was obvious snark in his voice. “Understandable, since the murder weapon just spoke to you as you hit Mr. Vizzini. That voice was burned into your mind. That’s why you were so certain about the time!”

“Objection!” yelled the prosecution. “Wh-What’s the meaning of this? This is all baseless conjecture!”

“Baseless? Just look at the witness’s face!” He pointed over to Iconis. Sweat was pouring down the witness’s face like rain on a window pane. He looked like he was about to snap. Michael had hit his breaking point. And he couldn’t have felt more satisfied.

“Would the witness care to elaborate?” asked the Judge. “Did you strike the victim with the clock?”

“I... I...! That... that day... I... I never! Look... I... the clock... I heard, no! I mean, I saw… saw…” Iconis dug his fingers into his hair as he screamed.

 _Gotcha_.

“Shutupshutupshutup! I hate you!” Iconis turned on Rich. “I-It was him, I tell you! I saw him! H-He killed him and he should burn! Burn! Give him death!” The din rose again in the court Michael could only hear satisfaction and Rich escaping the noose.

“Order! Order in the court I say!”

“Your Honor, a-a moment please!” stuttered the prosecutor once everything had calmed down. “There isn't a shred of evidence supporting the defense's claims!”

“Mr. Mell!” called the Judge.

“Your Honor?”

“You claim the sound the witness heard came from the clock... Do you have any evidence?” Michael drew in a breath.

_The whole case is riding on this! I'd better think it through carefully!_

The evidence raced through his head as Michael began fiddling with the wire of his headphones. He had to prove that is was the clock that Iconis heard. There was only one way to do that.

“Yes, Your Honor,” said Michael. “The sound Mr. Iconis heard was definitely this clock. A fact which is clear if you simply try sounding the clock.” Michael crossed out from the bench. He picked up the clock from the table. “Why don’t we try sounding the clock now? I ask the court to listen carefully.” Michael turned the neck of the clock. There was a beep before a voice announced:

 _“I think it’s 8:25_ ,” echoed in Rich’s robotic, pre-recorded voice. There was a moment of silence.

“That certainly is a strange way to announce the time.”

“Well, he is the ‘Thinker’ after all, your Honor.” Michael placed the clock back on the table.

“So, we’ve heard the clock. What are you conclusions, Mr. Mell?”

“Well, I have one. Angie?” Angelica looked over at Michael. “What time is it?” Angelica glanced down at the phone she kept concealed in her pocket.

“It’s 12:25.” There was a shout from the prosecution. The times didn’t match up. Like Iconis’ testimonies, there was a clear contradiction.

“As you can see, this clock is exactly four hours slow!” Michael continued. “It matches the discrepancy between what Mr. Iconis heard and the actual time of death. So, Mr. Iconis…” The man looked like he wanted to strangle Michael right then and there. “Try to talk your way out of this one.” To Michael’s surprise, the witness laughed.

“You forgot one this, Lawyer!” said Iconis. Michael paled.

_Uh oh... what's he talking about...? I don’t like this._

“While it may seem like that clock is running four hours slow... It proves nothing! How do you know it was running four hours slow on the day of the murder!? If you can't prove that, you don't have a case!” Michael froze.

_He's right! How am I going to prove that!? Dammit! I was so close!_

“Mr. Mell?” said the Judge. Michael didn’t move. “It seems you lack the critical evidence to support your claim.”

“Y-Yes, Your Honor,” said Michael, downtrodden.

“This means I cannot let you indict the witness. Unfortunately... This ends the cross-examination of Mr. Joe Iconis.” Michael dug his nails into the palms of his hands.

_Grr! I almost had him! Sorry, Rich... I failed you. There's nothing I can do about it now…_

“Not so fast, Mr. Iconis!” Michael snapped to attention. Angelica had her hands down on the bench. There was only one other time he had seen her like this; that trial two years ago.

“Angelica!!”

“Listen up, Mell! Don't throw this one away, not like this! Think!”

“But, Chief, it's over. I can't prove the clock was slow the day of the murder! Nobody can prove that!”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t still win.” Michael stared at her like she was crazy. “Try thinking outside of the box. Don’t waste time doubting the facts. Assume the clock was four hours slow. Ask yourself why.”

“How the hell am I supposed to know that?!” He couldn’t see it. There was no evidence.

“I now you can figure it out. There must be something that can show you why the clock was four hours slow. Find it, and you'll get your ‘Not Guilty’ verdict!”

“Mr. Mell?” said the Judge. Michael swallowed down something rising.

“Y-Y-Yes Your Honor?” Michael stuttered. Wait, where did that come from?

“You say the clock was already running slow on the day of the murder... Do you have evidence to prove this?” Michael drew in a sharp breath. Michael stared at the evidence on the table. The murder weapon, the blackout report and the victim's passport. Wait. His passport. That's when it hit Michael.

_This is it... all or nothing!_

“Yes, Your Honor,” said Michael. “I believe the we do have evidence that can and will prove my claim.” The witness laughed.

“I'd like to see _that_ ! _”_ said Iconis. Michael pulled out his phone from his back pocket, working his fingers quickly over the screen.

“The victim had just returned home abroad the day before the murder,” said Michael. “And according to an app on my phone, the time difference time difference between Los Angeles and Paris is eight hours. For example, when it’s 4:00 P.M. over here, it’s midnight there.” Michael pocketed his phone as he went on. “The clock wasn’t four hours slow, it was eight hours fast! The victim hadn’t reset his clock since returning home. That’s why the time you heard when you struck him dead in his apartment was wrong! Proof enough for you, Mr. Iconis?” In an ironic twist of fate, Iconis’ silence caused an uproar in the courtroom. The Judge quickly called for order.

Iconis confessed. He had snapped completely and confessed to entering Vizzini’s home and later killing him. Michael cheered loudly as the bailiffs came for Iconis.

“Well... This case has certainly turned out differently than we all expected,” said the Judge. “The witness?”

“He… er…” stuttered the prosecutor. He refused to make eye contact with the smug Michael. “He was arrested and taken away, Your Honor.”

“Very well. Mr. Mell?”

“Yes, your Honor?” said the rookie attorney.

“I have to say, I am impressed.” Michael’s grin grew wider. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone complete a defense so quickly.” Michael glanced over at the clock. It was around 2:00. Had he really only completed the trial in fours hours? “Not only that, but you found the culprit at the same time!”

“Thank you, your Honor.”

“At this point, this is only a formality, but… This court finds the defendant, Mr. Rich Goranski… Not Guilty!” Michael never felt so happy to hear those words. There were cheers. Michael wrapped his arms around Angelica in his joy, spinning her around from behind the stands.

Michael Mell had just won his first trial.

* * *

 

_It turns out that Joe Iconis was a former business partner of the victim. They got into a spat and split ways when collaborating on a project together. However, Vizzini kept the things Iconis was working on. That day... When Rich went to his apartment, the victim wasn't home. After he left, Mr. Iconis let himself in to retrieve what was his. While he was searching the place, the victim returned! Flustered, Mr. Iconis grabbed the nearest blunt object he could find… and well… the rest is history._

* * *

**August 3, 2016**

**2:32 PM**

**District Court**

**Defendant Lobby No. 2**

 

Coming out of the courtroom, Michael was on Cloud Nine. He was bouncing around the defendant’s lobby, dancing around Angelica.

_I still can't believe we won! We won! We won, we won, we won, WE WON!!_

“Mell!” said Angelica. Michael fell back on his heels and turned to face his employer. “Good job in there! Congratulations!”

“Th-Thanks, Chief,” said Michael. His adrenaline rush was starting to fade. “I owe it all to you.”

“No, not at all. You fought your own battles in there.” A dark blush crossed over the tan complexion of Michael’s face. “It’s been awhile since I've seen a trial end on such a satisfying note!”

_I've never seen the chief looking this happy... If she's this glad, imagine how Rich must feel!_

Unfortunately for Michael, his thoughts were the opposite. Rich came out of the courtroom, dragging his feet behind him.

“My life is over…” Rich groaned.

“Rich!” said Michael. He put an arm over Rich’s shoulder. “You’re supposed to be happy. what’s wrong?”

“Michael. Don’t worry ‘bout me! I’ll be dead and gone soon!”

“Good!” Michael paused. Wait. “Wait, no! I mean... Bad! Bad bad bad! Rich, you're innocent! The case is closed.”

“... But... but my Ned's gone, man! Gone forever!” Michael stared at Rich with a blank stare.

_Rich, he was a... Nah... Never mind._

“Congratulations, Rich!” said Angelica, striding up to the two.

“Huh?”

“I can practically see the headlines now: ‘Rich Goranski, Innocent!’” Rich seemed to perk up. Michael sighed.

_If there's one thing that can cheer up Rich it’s pretty girls and guys._

“Um… thanks!” said Rich. Oh yeah, he was definitely more upbeat now. “I really owe you one. I won’t ever forget this. Let’s celebrate! Anything, my treat!”

“Oh, no. couldn’t.

_Hey, I was the one who got you off the hook! Seriously please say that I don't have to pay you back for law school anymore._

“Oh, hey! H-here, take this!” Rich ran over to a discarded bag on nearby chair. He pulled something out of it and rushed over to Angelica. “It's a present!”

“A present? For me?” Rich held it out to her. She stared at it, but didn’t take it. “Wait... Wasn't this the evidence that…” Rich held out a clock identical to the one used to murder his now deceased boyfriend.

“Actually, I made his clock for him. There was one for him and one for me.”

“R-Really?” said Angelica. “You made this?” She hesitated before accepting the gift into her hands. “Well, thank you. I’ll keep it as a memento.”

“Yo, Michael.” Michael took his eyes off of the clock and looked over at Rich, acknowledging him with a small hum. “Can you believe it? I was so into that dude. And he was just playing me for a fool! Don’t that make you just want to cry?” Rich’s mood did a one-eighty as he buried his face into Michael’s jacket. Michael patted his shoulder.

“Rich…”

_Don’t worry, buddy. I know how you feel._

“... Are you so sure?” asked Angelica. Rich lifted his head off of Michael.

“Ex-squeeze me?”

“Yeah, what?” added Michael.

“I think he thought quite a lot of you,” Angelica continued. “In his own way.” Rich stood up, leaving Michael’s jacket with a few, faint stains. Michael didn’t want to think about whether they were tears or something else.

“You don’t gotta sympathize with me,” said Rich. “It’s okay.”

“Oh, I’m not just sympathizing. Isn’t that right, Mell? Don’t you have something to show your friend? something that proves how his boyfriend really felt about him?” Michael blinked, raising an eyebrow. Angelica held up the clock in her hands. Michael thought back to the recent trial. There was one thing that wasn’t cleared up. Why _was_ the clock set eight hours ahead? There had to be a reason for that. It struck him like it did over the victim’s head.

“Oh, yeah. Right!” Angelica handed the clock over to Michael. Michael held it out to Rich. “Proof that you weren’t chump change to him.” Rich glanced at both before settling on the clock.

“What about it?” he asked.

“The murder weapon was a clock that you made for him, Rich. The reason it was set forward a couple of hours was that Ned took it with him when he traveled.” Rich didn’t have the reaction Michael was expecting.

“Whatever. He probably just needed a clock.”

“You think so? It’s a pretty heavy clock to take travelling.” It was proven heavy enough to kill a person, that’s for sure. Rich was quiet. Michael handed the clock back to Angelica. “Make of it what you will.”

_Hope that made him feel a little better…_

“... Hey, Michael?” Michael stopped his thought process when Rich spoke up. “I'm glad I asked you to be my lawyer. Really, I am. Thanks.” There was a sad smile on his face. Michael slung an arm over Rich’s shoulder..

“I told ya I could win this,” he said.

“Mell?” Michael took his eyes off f Rich. He looked over at Angelica. “I hope you see the importance of evidence now. Also, hopefully you realize, things change depending on how you look at them. People too. We never truly know if our clients are guilty or not. All we can do is believe in therm. In order to do that, you have to believe in yourself. Mell. I want you to listen, learn and grow strong. Never let go of what you believe in.” Michael nodded.

“Got it, Miss Schuyler.”

_I’m already one step ahead of you._

* * *

 

After everything had settled down and all questions from reporters had been answered, Michael and Angelica drove back to their law office, Michael in the driver’s seat of his old PT Cruiser. It was lucky for him that someone had dropped off Angelica at the courthouse instead of her driving there herself. It made things less complicated.

“How about dinner? On me.” said Angelica from her place in the passenger’s seat. “We’ll toast to the innocent Goranski!” Michael grinned. It sounded like a good idea.

“Yeah,” he replied. “We can order something when we get back to the office.”

“Speaking of Rich, you were saying earlier that the reason you became a lawyer was because of him.” Michael took his off the road for a second to glance at Angelica. His grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“Yeah,” he said. “Part of it anyway.”

“You’ll have to tell me more about it sometime. It sounds like an interesting story.” Memories that had triggered Michael’s path in life began to echo in his head.

 

 

> _You know that you are my favorite person, that doesn't mean that I can't still dream._
> 
> _Is it really true, I'm your favowite pewson~?_
> 
>  
> 
> _Shut up._
> 
> _What?_
> 
> _I said shut up. My uncle has done everything for me since my dad died. He took me in without hesitation, he's made me cooler. He's improved my life drastically and you want to accuse him of murder?!_
> 
> _Hey Jeremy, that's not… It's a possibility, but…_
> 
> _I hate you._
> 
> _Jeremy..._
> 
> _I hate you. I hate you, Michael Mell. Move it._
> 
> _Or you'll what?_
> 
> _Get out of my way. Loser._
> 
>  
> 
> _Um… So… I’ve noticed that in the papers… well, what they’ve been saying about you. Demon Prosecutor and all that. I know it’s not true. All of it. Call me back when you get this message. I want to know what happened to you. Bye._
> 
> _You know he’s not going to all you back, right?_
> 
> _Yeah…_

 

Michael released a pent up breath of frustration. It was a long story, with many twists and turns ad back stabbings. Yet, as Angelica stated, it was an interesting one. Michael was surprised that he hadn’t told Angelica the story before.

“It sounds like a plan Angie. But first, let’s get some food in us. I haven’t eaten in nine hours. Those reporter's would not shut up.” Angelica laughed a little as she and Michael drove down to Schuyler & Co. Law Offices.

* * *

_And so, my first trial came to a close. Rich had slapped me on the back and said, "Gee, Michael, it's good to have friends!" But I'm pretty sure he's not going to pay us. Unless you count the clock he gave Angelica. ... I didn't know it then... but that clock was soon going to be at the center of another incident. And my promise to tell the chief about me and Rich... would be one promise that I wouldn't be able to keep._


	2. Turnabout Sisters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael stumbles upon the brutal scene of a murder, with the confused accused being arrested on the spot. He finds himself fulfilling the promise he made long ago as he stands up for a young woman in her hour of need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me a while to match up Redd White and April May. You would not believe the research I've done to pull this off. Let's say that my search history has become very weird lately.

**September 5, 2016  
**

**9:24 A.M.  
** ****

**Schuyler & Co. Law Offices**

Angelica twisted the screwdriver in her hand. The unusual clock that she had been gifted with was sitting on her desk for over a month, collecting dust. That was until Angelica found a use for it. Discarded next to her was the clock’s inner mechanisms. Pressed up against her ear with the help of her shoulder was her cellphone. She could hear the other end ringing.

“Hello?” said the voice in the opposite end when the call was finally picked up. “This is Elizabeth Schuyler speaking.” Angelica grinned.

“Hey Eliza,” she said to her sister on the other end. “It's me.”

“Angelica!” Eliza sounded excited to hear Angelica's voice. “What's up? You haven't called me in a while.”

“Er… Sorry about that. I've been really busy. How have you been?

“Well, lonely for one. And it's all your fault.” Angelica could hear Eliza’s grainy laugh. “I'm just teasing. Peggy’s been keeping me company. But, I've been great. I finally got my own place “

“That’s good to hear.” Angelica placed the clock and screwdriver on her desk. She released her phone from her shoulders hold to pass it on to her hand. “Actually, I'm calling because I have a favor to ask.”

“I know, I know. You want me to hold evidence for you?” It seemed like the sisters were in sync. Either that, or Angelica had asked Eliza to do this one too many times.

“Sharp as always. There's a lot of buzz about the upcoming trial. I don't feel safe keeping the evidence in the office.”

“I got it. So, what is it this time?”

“It's a clock.”

“A… clock?” Eliza sounded surprised.

“Yeah. It's made to look like the statue, ‘The Thinker’. I thought you might like it. You did always like toys.” Angelica snickered at the loud groan that played on her ears.

“I'm not a little girl anymore.”

“You know I'm just messing with you.” Angelica eyed the clockwork on her desk. She would have to do something with it. “Though… I should tell you that the clock isn't talking right now.”

“Huh? Not talking? Angelica, are you okay?” Eliza’s confusion was evident to Angelica. Maybe her sister hadn’t seen last month’s trial like she expected.

“Sorry. I guess I should explain. If you turn the neck of the statue on the top of the clock, it says the time. I had to take the clockwork out to put some papers inside.

“Papers? Is that the evidence then?” Even though Eliza couldn't see her, Angelica nodded.

“Yes. Can you come by the office tonight to pick them up? Say… around 9:00? I'll, unfortunately, be in a pre-trial meeting until then. Sorry.”

“It's okay. But I expect dinner. Something good!” Angelica laughed. 

“Okay, okay. We'll hit the usual joint.”

“Alright, it's a deal! See you tonight, Angelica!”

“I'll be waiting Eliza.” Angelica hung up the phone. A weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. That took care of the evidence. All that was left was the trial.

* * *

**September 5, 2016**

**7:14 P.M.**

**Schuyler & Co. Law Offices**

 

“Huh? You have a little sister?”

Michael Mell was staying later than usual. Angelica had bought a glass light stand for the office the day before. He had volunteered to put it together while she went over her defense for the trial tomorrow.

As they spoke and Michael finished up, the pair had been talking Angelica's defense tactic. Michael brought up the location of the evidence. During the conversation, Angelica slipped about her call to Eliza.

“Two actually,” Angelica replied, acting nonchalant as she reviewed the files in her hand.

“Wait, so you’re the oldest?” Angelica nodded in response.

“Yup. Did I not tell you?”

“This is news to me,” said Michael. He snatched up the backpack he used for just about everything from up off the floor. The light stand was complete, standing erect near Angelica’s desk.

“Anyway, one of my sisters is coming to visit me at the office tonight. Why don't you join us for dinner?”

“Really?” Michael slung his bag over his shoulder. 

“Of course.” He mulled over the offer for a few seconds. It didn't take long for him to make a decision. Free food was the best kind of food.

“Then sure. Why not?”

“Okay, let's meet back up here at 9:00 P.M.” Michael made a mental note of the time. He wanted to keep it in his head. Angelica hated when he was tardy.

“Got it. I promise that I won't be late.” Michael made his way to the door. “I'll see you later Angie!”

“I'll be keeping you to that.” The door shut behind Michael before Angelica’s words could reach him.

Little did Michael know that would be the last time he would ever see Angelica Schuyler alive again.

* * *

**September 5, 2016**

**9:08 PM**

**Schuyler & Co. Law Offices**

 

Michael cursed at himself repeated as he ran into the building of Schuyler & Co. The one thing he had promised Angelica was that he wasn't going to be late. A little time to himself had turned into a couple of hours. Before he knew it, the clock was almost at nine. He silently hoped that no police officer noticed that he might have gone over the speed limit on his way over.

When he reached the door to the office, Michael found it unlocked. He dismissed the thought as Angelica leaving the door open for him. However, when Michael stepped into the office itself, it was shrouded in darkness. An eerie quiet hung in the air.

_ That's strange. The chief must have gone home already. She said her sister was coming over so we should all go out for dinner... Hold on, did she get tired of waiting and ditch me? _

A strong scent smacked Michael in the face. He hesitated in moving. The smell was familiar in a way, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was.

_ What's that smell...?  _ Michael found his answer the longer the scent lingered. _ Blood...? _

“Angelica!” Michael shouted. His heart was racing. Blood was never a good sign, even if it was just the scent. It also wasn't a good sign that there was no answer to his call.

_ Maybe she's in her office! _

Michael raced to the large office that belonged to his employer. The door was already ajar. Like the rest of the place, it was coated with the darkness of night.

“Chief? Chief…? Angie…? You in here?” Michael walked in the room. The sound of muffled cries bounced off the walls. Curious, Michael followed. The source was underneath a window. Michael’s blood went cold. It wasn’t the source of the cry that made Michael panic, though.

Slumped underneath the window was Angelica Schuyler. Her dark curls cascaded over her face. She wasn't moving.

“Angelica!” Michael shouted. He ran over to her. His head was spinning. No, this couldn't be real. It had to be some sort of twisted joke. Michael got down on his knees and shook Angelica. “Come on, wake up. Angelica!” Michael’s vision was starting to cloud. She wasn't waking up. She wouldn't ever wake up. She wasn't breathing.

The sound of a cry made Michael turn. Standing behind him was a young woman, about his own age or so. She was dressed in rather strange clothes. She was shaking. She had tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Who are you?” Michael asked. It was the only thing he could think of to say. The woman stared at him before her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

 

_ The strange woman dropped out cold. I left her lying on the office sofa. She was a lot heavier than she looked. I went back to the chief where she lay under the window. Her body was still warm… I could feel it when I held her shoulder. Then, all too quickly, it began to fade… Until finally she was cold _ . 

 

Michael bit back bitter tears. He sat in front on Angelica’s body. He wanted to cry, but he refused to let anything fall. Angelica had once told him that a lawyer doesn't cry until it's all over. But now… Angelica’s life was over. She was gone.

“Angie… Thank you… for everything you did for me.” Michael took off his glasses. The tears finally started to come down against his will. He hasilty wiped them away with his sleeve. He stared at the body in front of him. It was hard to look at her like this. She looked so peaceful and yet, there was something off.

_ What happened to her? Who did this? If there are any clues around here… _

Michael hesitated for a moment. He reached out, pushing back Angelica’s hair. An ugly looking gash marked her dark skin. Blood dripped down her face and stained her jacket with red droplets. It was still somewhat wet. She hadn't been killed too long ago. 

He looked over to the floor next to him. Laying beside Angelica was something that made him sneer. The Thinker clock Angelica had been given had blood staining its corner. Once again, the clock claimed someone's life.

_ She probably died instantly. "The Thinker" must have been the murder weapon. Great. I'm starting to think that thing might be cursed. _

Michael looked to the other side. Several large, glass shards were scattered about. There was an item missing from the room as well. The light Angelica had just bought was now broken on the floor. 

_ Must be pieces of the glass light stand lying broken in the back of the room. Dammit. I worked hard on that. _

Nothing else seemed out of the ordinary. Michael looked over to the body again. He cursed at himself. If he had been on time like he had promised, maybe he could have saved her. 

Something bouncing light from the moon caught Michael’s eye. Angelica was holding something in her hand. He carefully pried open her fingers. Inside of Angelica's hand was a piece of paper. Written on it in scarlet red letters was the word: ELIZA. 

_ Eliza…? What does that mean? Wait, what is even written in? It doesn't look like… Oh, wait. Oh God that's blood. _

Michael stood up straight, feeling a bit nauseous from the sight of the blood written words. It was either some sadist’s sick idea of a joke or Angelica wrote that herself. He shook his head. He didn’t want to think about that.

_ I think that's enough snooping around for now. I'd better find out what that woman was doing here. But first, I should call the police. _

There was a phone on Angelica’s desk, Michael knew that. He went over to it. Michael only noticed his hands were shaking when he went for the phone itself.

_ Calm down Michael. It's okay. Well, it's not okay. Angelica is dead. _

Michael drew a deep breath before picking up the phone. However, as soon as he did, the receiver partially fell apart in his hands.

_ Are you kidding me? Someone took out a few of the screws?! _

Michael put the phone down. Lucky his cellphone was in his back pocket. Before he could even grab it however, a loud shriek caught his attention. Michael flew over to the window. Across the street from Schuyler & Co. was a hotel. In one of the rooms, a woman locked eyes with Michael. She had a phone pressed to her ear. Her voice quieted down as she spoke with who Michael assumed was the police. Well. That was one problem taken care of. Now that just left…

Thump.

_ Uh-oh. _

Michael raced out into the reception area. Sitting on the floor was the woman whom Michael had the misfortune of running into at the scene of the crime. It appeared as if she had fallen off the couch when she woke up.

Michael went over and pulled the woman back to her feet.

“Are you alright?” he asked her. The woman was quiet for a moment. She nodded. “Um… sorry for asking but, who are you?” The woman didn't speak. “It's okay. I work here.”

“Elizabeth…” The woman muttered. “Elizabeth Schuyler.”

“Elizabeth… Schuyler?” Michael was stuck on the “Schuyler” part. The woman nodded.

“Yes.” She avoided looking at Michael.

_ She seems to be in shock. I don't want to disturb her, but I have to know… _

“Um… excuse me? Elizabeth?” The woman didn't even glance up at him. “Can you… Can you tell me what happened?” She drew a shaking breath.

“I came in… The room was dark. And Angelica…” Elizabeth began to tear up. “My sister was…”

_ So she was already dead. _

“So, you're Angie’s…?” 

“Sister. I'm her younger sister.” Michael looked her up and down. Elizabeth didn't look anything like Angelica, save for her dark hair. For one, the younger sister carried a pale complexion and straighter hair while Angelica had the opposite. 

_ I’m… I'm not going to question it. _

“And you were here visiting?” Michael asked, continuing his line of questioning. “This late at night?”

“Yes. She said she wanted me to keep some evidence for her.”

“Evidence…? Wait, you mean the evidence for the trial tomorrow?” Michael remembered Angelica mentioning an important piece of evidence in their earlier conversation. Well, that trial definitely won’t be happening now that the defense was dead.

“Yes,” answered Elizabeth again. “It was that clock next to her. The Thinker.” Michael had a feeling she would say that. There was one last thing he wanted to ask Elizabeth, and it was about the more chilling pieces of evidence he had seen.

“Before Angelica died, she wrote a message with her own blood.” The words carried a sickening poison with them. “Does… Does the name ‘Eliza’ mean anything to you?” Elizabeth’s eyes went wide. “What’s wrong?”

“Eliza… Th-Th-That’s my name!” Michael’s eyes grew wide with hers.

“What?!”

“It’s what all my close friends and family call me,” Eliza explained. Her voice began to crack. “W-Why?! Why did she write my name?!” As Eliza started to give into her emotions, Michael reached out a hand. He hesitated before putting it on her shoulder.

“Please. Calm down.” Michael’s words didn’t help.

“Wh-Why did Angelica write  _ my _ name?!” Eliza only started to cry. Michael could only watch as she grieved over the loss of her dead sister. He didn't know what to do.

_ Uh-oh. Now I've done it… and I can’t do anything about it either! Dammit. _

Michael snapped out of his thoughts and Eliza snapped out of her cries when both were drowned out by the sound of police sirens. The sirens were followed by the thumping of heavy footsteps.

_ The police! So she really did call the cops…  And it sounds like they’re coming this way! _

Before either one of them could say a word, the door to the front office was kicked open. Policemen and women flooded the office as the lights flickered on. Amongst the officers, a rather good-looking man with brown hair and dressed in a tattered trenchcoat entered the office. 

“We got a report from the building across the way,” said the man while he received strange looks from both Michael and Eliza. “Someone said that they saw a murder?”

_ It must have been that woman I saw. Called it. _

Michael pointed him in the direction of Angelica’s office.

“She’s in there…” he said. The officers spent no time in moving over to the scene.

“I don't want either of you moving so much as one inch, got it?” said the scruffy-looking man. He received a nod from Michael and Eliza before following the officers into the office.

_ Great. Just great. Elizabeth...  _ Michael looked over at the woman by his side.  _ Wait, she wouldn't have... nah. She was just as freaked out as I was. It's impossible that she did this. Besides, who would kill their own sister? _

“Whoa! Excuse me!” The sudden reappearance of the man peeking his head out of the doorway made Michael jump. He heard Eliza yelp. The man held up the piece of paper that Angelica had in her hand. Even if it was sealed in an evidence bag, it was still a disturbing sight to Michael.

“Does the word ‘Eliza’ mean anything to you?” Michael and Eliza exchanged a look with one another.

“Um… that…” said Eliza with a sigh. “That would be my name.” The man’s eyes grew wide. 

“What?! The victim drew this note in her own blood. With her dying breath, she wrote her killer’s name.”

He handed the evidence off to another one of the officers. Michael felt his blood run cold when he exchanged the bloody paper for a pair of handcuffs.

“K-Killer?” Eliza stuttered. The man forced her hands behind her back. “I’m not—”

“Case closed! You’re coming down to the precinct, ma’am.” Eliza didn’t fight against the restraints that were secured around her wrists, but it was obvious that she was growing panicked.

“Wh-What?”

“Hey, wait!” Michael shouted as the man lead Eliza away in handcuffs. One of the officers put their hand on Michael’s shoulder to stop him from chasing after the pair.

“Excuse me, sir?” said the officer. “You’re going to have to come down precinct. We need to ask you a few questions.” Michael didn’t put up a fight. He sighed.

_ This is going to be a long, LONG night. _

 

_ And so, Angelica's younger sister, Elizabeth or more commonly known as “Eliza" to her close friends and family, was arrested on the spot. I was taken in for questioning and didn't get out until the next morning. My eyes were heavy... but I couldn't sleep. I sat around, waiting for visiting hours to begin at the detention center. I had to talk to Elizabeth as soon as possible. _

* * *

**September 6, 2016**

**9:07 AM**

**Detention Center**

**Visitor's Room**

 

Michael stared at the security guard through the thick glass that divided them as he brought in Eliza. She looked as tired as Michael felt.

_ Wow, they have poor Elizabeth locked up like a criminal. It’s kinda sad just to look at. _

“Oh, it’s you! The lawyer,” said Eliza when she saw who came to visit her. She stifled through a yawn. “G-Good Morning.”

“Good morning!” replied Michael, trying to sound chipper. It didn’t seem to work.

_ She looks so tired… I don’t blame her. So am I. _

“Um… are you going to be my attorney?” Is that why she thought Michael was here? After last night, he just wanted to make sure that she was okay, but he guessed that his career probably influenced that question.

“Well… uh… about that…”

_ I'd better give it to her straight… _

“That’s completely up to you, Elizabeth.”

“Up… to me?” She seemed taken back by the answer. It probably wasn’t the best thing to say.

“I mean, I don’t think this is something I should decide,” said Michael. “You are the one behind bars here.” Eliza sighed, resting her elbows up against the table in front of her.

“They’re never going to believe me,” she groaned. “Even when you found me, you looked at me like I had done it!” Michael felt his face flush.

_ Did I look at her like that? _

“No, no!” said a flustered Michael. “I never thought—”

“It’s okay I understand.” Eliza’s voice showed that she was trying to remain calm. There was an uncomfortable pause before either one spoke again. “I’ve heard about you.” Michael raised an eyebrow.

“Heard?” he repeated. “You’ve heard about me? From where?”

“I was talking to my sister the other day. She told me all about your first trial. Angelica said that you were one of those types of people who strike fear into the hearts of evil.” Michael had a proud beam on his face. “She also said you lacked experience.” And all that pride just flew out the window as Michael fell silent. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t meant to—”

“No. It’s okay.” Michael leaned back in his chair. “It’s kinda true, I guess but…” He leaned forward, slamming his hands down on the table. Eliza jumped back. “I can’t just sit by and watch! When I think of the person that did this to Angelica…”

_ They don’t want me to be at the bench. That’s enough to say the least. _

“I know…” The silence fell once again. Michael felt more awkward sitting there then he did throughout high school. As he stared at Eliza, something crossed his mind.

“There’s something I wanted to ask you.”

“Yes?”

“What’s with the outfit?” Michael asked. Eliza pulled at the teal robes she was wearing.

“This?” Michael nodded. “This is what all the acolytes wear. It’s my uniform in a sense.” This piqued Michael’s interest.

“Acolytes?” he repeated. “Like people in religious training?” Eliza nodded. “What exactly is it that you’re training for?”

“Oh! It's nothing strange. I'm a spirit medium. Well, a spirit medium in training.”

“A spirit medium!?”

_ I'm pretty sure that qualifies as strange. But that does explain the clothes…  _

Michael cleared his throat before continuing.

“So… you're an acolyte. A medium-in-training?” Eliza nodded to solidify her answer.

“That's right,” she said. “The women, and on occasion a few of the men, in the Schuyler family have always been sensitive to the spirit world.” Michael found himself hooked on one phrase in that sentence.

“Wait a second, you said the Schuyler family. So you mean Angelica was into this stuff too?”

“Of course!” Eliza acted as if the answer was entirely obvious. “She left the mountain to ‘follow her career’ as she put it. Her powers were first class, too! She once channeled a person for about three hours straight for a family friend’s wedding.”

_ I... I had no idea. Angie didn’t seem like she was into this stuff… Although… that necklace Eliza is wearing… Didn’t Angelica wear one like it? _

Michael found himself fixated on the comma-shaped charm around Eliza’s neck. It was from staring at that charm that another realization dawned on him.

“So, you’re a real, honest to God spirit medium?” he said, “With ESP and all that?”

“Well, a spirit medium in training, yes.” Michael still found it hard to believe. Maybe if he had some proof….

“Well, if you’re a spirit medium, can’t you contact Angelica?” he asked Eliza. “That way, we can just ask her who killed her!” Eliza looked away from Michael. She looked guilty. Michael hoped that she was not about to confess to the murder.

“I’m sorry…” she said. “I’m still training. I haven’t been able to contact a spirit yet.” And all of Michael’s hope and belief in that ‘spirit medium’ thing just jumped off of a cliff.

_ I thought that would be too easy. _

“Could you… tell me more about the day of the murder?” Michael asked. He wanted to help catch Angelica’s killer, even if he wasn’t going to be the one on the bench. Most likely he would be at the witness stand.

“Yes,” answered Eliza. “That morning, I got a call from my sister. She said that she wanted me to hold onto a piece of evidence for a trial that was supposed to be today.”

“Right. You told me. It was that clock shaped like the Thinker.”

“Yes.”

_ The one Rich made… Maybe I should tell him to stop making blunt objects for his significant others. They seem to lead only to murder. _

Michael shook his head.

“How is the clock evidence in a case?” He paused. “It’s not a murder weapon again, is it?

“Again?”

“Er… long story.” Eliza shook her head. Well, that was a weight off of Michael’s shoulders.

“She said something about it…” Eliza muttered, trying to retrace the events of yesterday. “If I recall— wait, you can hear it in her own voice!” Michael’s eyes went wide.

“H-Her own voice?!” How was that even possible? Angelica was… Even thinking about that fact stung.

“I’m positive that our conversation is on my cellphone.” Now that made more sense.

“You recorded it?”

“Yeah. I forgot how to delete those things, so it should still be on there.”

“Well let's hear it!” Eliza glanced away from him.

“About that… the man from last night, the one who was in charge of the crime scene? He took it.” Michael bit back a groan. He screamed inside of his head.

_ Of course… because nothing is ever made easy for me. _

“Next time I see him, I'll just ask him for it,” said Michael as he dragged a hand down his face. He made a mental note to get Eliza’s phone back. Hopefully he didn't forget. There was one more thing Michael wanted to question Eliza about. “Um… could you tell me about the night of the murder?” Eliza visibly tensed up. “Sorry. I know this must be hard.”

“No, it's okay. All I've been doing for the last few hours is talking about it. I've gotten kinda used to it.” Michael bit down on his tongue. He couldn't imagine having to recount the death of a loved one. Then again, he never really had to. He wasn't sure if he should be grateful for that as he sat in that chair. “That morning, I got a call from Angelica. She wanted me to hold onto a piece of evidence for an upcoming trial.”

_ That's "The Thinker" clock that Rich made. It practically qualifies as a serial murderer by now. _

“So… when did you arrive at the office?”

“Right around 9:00, shortly before you did. The lights were off and I smelled blood. Th-Then I found her.” Eliza's voice began cracking. “My sister…” Michael kept those facts in mind. She didn't get there long before him. She sounded like she was telling the truth. Michael ran a hand through his hair.

“Thanks Elizabeth,” he said. “That's all I need to hear for now.” Before Michael could leave, Eliza piped up and said something Michael couldn't understand. “Er… Something the matter?”

“I was wondering,” Eliza said, messing around with a ring on her finger. “Could I… ask you a favor?” Michael became curious about this “favor” as she withdrew a small card from her pocket. She slid it under the glass and over to Michael. It was an address. “This is the address of a lawyer I know. Do you think you could ask him to represent me?” Michael picked up the card.

“Sure. Why not?” He tucked the card into his back pocket. “I'll go ask.” He didn't see the harm in going. Eliza beamed.

“Thank you so much. I have no one else to turn to…” Michael stared at her. 

“What about your other sister? Angelica mentioned that you had a third.”

“She’s too young to understand… I can't imagine how she's reacting to all of this.”

“And your parents?” The look that fell on Eliza’s face combined with her silence told Michael everything he needed to know. “Oh. I'm sorry… Don't worry. Just leave everything to me.”

“Thank you. Tell him that the trial is tomorrow at 10:00.”

“Wait, what?! It's tomorrow?!” Michael wasn't sure that they could even schedule a trial with such a small amount of investigating that could be done in a day.

“Tomorrow,” repeated Eliza.

“What if the guy refuses?!” Not many attorneys took cases with only one day’s notice.

“They told me that if I don't find someone that the state will pick an attorney for me.”

“When will that happen?”

“They're giving me until 4:00 this afternoon.” Michael glanced over at a laminated sheet that was hung up near the door. It marked when visiting hours were.

_ And visiting hours are up by then... I'd better hurry! _

“Right. I'll be back before then. I promise.” Michael left the visitor's room with a quick nod from Eliza to seal the deal. He let all the information and tasks he had acquired during their conversation sink in. It was something that he didn't want to forget. He glanced at the card Eliza had given him.

_ Right. I'll just drive over to this guy’s office and… wait. My car is still back at the office. Dammit. _

* * *

**September 6, 2016**

**10:28 A.M.**

**Schuyler & Co. Law Offices**

 

_ I can’t believe how far the detention center is from the office. I really wish they let me take my own car last night. _

Michael’s feet were never as sore as they were now. The walk had taken about an hour. Well, at least he had his mode of transportation back. The number of police cars around the office had dwindled by a bare minimum. Michael wandered inside the building when he realized that his keys weren't in his pocket to find them. Unfortunately, the task wasn’t going to be easy.

_ Now, the office is filled with police officers. They're all busily searching for clues… _

“Hey! You there! This is a crime scene. No trespassing!” Michael jumped at the unexpected shout. He turned around on his heel to come face-to-face with the man with whom he met last night. The man seemed to relax when he caught sight of the “trespasser”. Michael took note of the file tucked under his arm. “Sorry. Don’t I know you from somewhere?” The man continued before Michael could answer. “Wait, you’re that Goranski guy, aren’t you?”

“Uh… no,” Michael replied flatly. “It’s Michael. Michael Mell.”

_ How could anyone mistake me for Rich!? We look nothing alike! _

“Guess I got the wrong name, Mr. Mell. Sorry ‘bout that.” The guy was acting like mistaking someone for someone else was something that he did often. “That Goranski guy was a killer. And you’re no killer. Right?” Michael shook his head.

_ Rich  _ was _ proven innocent… I should know. I was there. I did it. _

“Right… and you were…” Michael felt himself draw a blank. He never got the person’s name last night. He didn’t even know who he was, minus the fact that he was the one who arrested Eliza. “You were one of the officers, right?” The man did not seem to take that answer lightly.

“Wait, what?! No! No, I haven’t been an officer in a couple of years!” Michael took a small step back at the sudden raise in the man’s tone of voice. “The name is Tiggular. Detective Fiyero Tiggular.” Michael made a mental note not to forget that. “I’m the one in charge here.”

_ Whatever you say, Detective… _

“You’re that girl’s lawyer, right? If you got business here, you’d better do it quick.” Michael hesitated before slowly nodding a reply.

_ Wow! He thinks I'm Elizabeth’s lawyer! Sweet! Looks like my keys will just have to wait. _

“About Angel—” Michael stopped himself. If he wanted to pass as Eliza’s lawyer, he had to act professional. “About Ms. Schuyler, the victim… did you… you know… do an autopsy?”

“Just got the results. You want to know them, don’t you?” The detective continued on before Michael could even open his mouth. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s no use!” How exactly was Michael looking at him? “She might have been your boss, but that doesn’t mean you get any special treatment.” Michael went to speak again. Once more, he was cut off by Detective Tiggular. “Alright, alright. You can see the report, but that’s all.” He handed the file he had on him over to Michael. Michael didn’t waste any time in opening it. There was silence as he read it.

“So… Angelica’s death was instantaneous,” said Michael once he was done. He shut the file and handed it back to Detective Tiggular. It brought some peace to his mind to know that Angelica didn’t suffer before she died. The detective nodded.

“That’s right.” He swallowed down something. “She was… a beautiful person.”

“Did you know her?” The detective gave him a nod.

“Sure. All of us down at the precinct knew Ms. Schuyler. As much as it pains me to say this, she was a darn good lawyer.” Detective Tiggular began rapidly blinking, rubbing something away from his eyes.

“Um… detective? Are you… crying?”

“No! I just… I just got a little dust in my eye, that’s all.” Michael found the lie hard to believe. It would be better if he didn’t bring it up again and switch to a different topic.

“Um… about Elizabeth—”

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to that trial!” The detective laughed. “Sorry, but this is one trial that you aren’t going to win.” He sounded so confident about that statement.

“Why do you say that?”

“The city assigned Prosecutor Heere to be the prosecution.” Michael felt his body turn to ice.

_ Did he just say Prosecutor Heere…? _

Memories Michael had long buried away started to resurface in his head at the sound of that name. Two small boys chasing each other in the yard… playing Nintendo together… trying to beat difficult video games levels together in Michael’s basement... enduring high school torment with one another… backpack graffiti that made Michael’s heart jump into his throat… All of them played in his head. He found it hard to believe all that had only ceased eight years ago.

“I’m sure you know what that means, being a lawyer and all,” continued Detective Tiggular. Michael was still caught in the daze of his memories.

“Prosecutor Heere…” Michael repeated.

“That’s right! Jeremy Heere himself. Wait, you do know him, don’t you? Hey.” The detective snapped his fingers in Michael’s face. Michael blinked a few times as he woke up from his trance.

“I’m sorry,” said the attorney, rubbing his eyes from under his glasses. “What did you say?”

“You do know Prosecutor Heere, don’t you?” Michael gave him a nod as his mood and tone turned sour.

_ I know him better than you think _ ...

“I know him,” Michael answered in a pained monotone. “He’s a feared prosecutor. He doesn’t feel pain or remorse. He won’t stop until he gets a guilty verdict.”

“Aww, don’t talk about him that way. You make him barely sound human!” The detective sounded like the opposite of every news article Michael had read about the prosecutor in the history of ever. “Still, I’m afraid this pretty much decides the case.” Michael loudly sighed.

_ So, Jeremy is on this one... He hasn't lost a case since he became prosecutor at the incredible age of twenty. Of course, there are the rumors of back-alley deals and forged evidence… I don't believe them, but all I know for sure is that Jeremy hates crime with an almost abnormal passion. Consider what happened, I don't blame him. I pray for the lawyer who has to toe-to-toe with him on this one. _

A reminder popped into Michael’s head.

“I was wondering, Detective,” said Michael. “You wouldn’t have happened to see Elizabeth Schuyler’s cellphone, would you?”

“Oh that? I have that.” Michael felt a little upbeat. Finally, something was going right today.

“Do you think you could give it back?”

“Sure.” Michael held out a hand to receive the device as Tiggular pulled out the phone from his pocket. Before the detective could hand it over, he pulled it out of Michael’s reach. “Wait a second. Nice try, lawyer.”

_ Uh-oh, he's onto me! Okay, I can't be straight with this guy... but what should I tell him? _

“Something the matter?” Michael had to come up with a lie and quick. His eyes caught sight of the strap attached to the phone.

“That carrying strap on the phone…” 

“This?” Michael nodded when the Detective held the item in question. “It says ‘The Steel Samurai: Warrior of Neo Olde Tokyo’. Isn't that an action hero on TV?”

“Yeah.” Michael could remember watching the original version of the show as a child. Heck, he still watched the show whenever it was on. “The strap is a collector’s item. She… she was worried it might get lost if it went down to the precinct.”

“That's what she said?”

“Yes.” Michael kept his fingers crossed that the lie could pass. As luck would have it, the lie had passed the test.

“Okay, then. I wrote down all the numbers she called recently anyway. Here you go.” Detective Tiggular handed the phone off to Michael, who quickly pocketed it away. That was one thing he checked off his to-do list.

_ Seems he didn't notice the recorded conversation… I guess I've asked all the questions I need to. Wait. There’s one thing. _

“Um… Detective? You… wouldn't have happened to see a pair of car keys anywhere? I dropped them last night.”

“You mean the keys to that thing out front? That's yours?” Michael nodded.

_ Don't insult my baby. _

“Well… we did find a keyring this morning.” Tiggular walked over to where Michael’s desk was. Bags of evidence were scattered over it. It was even messier than normal. From the evidence, the Detective pulled out a keyring Michael recognized well. “This them?”

“Yes! Thank you!” said Michael as Tiggular dropped the keys into his open hand.

_ My feet also thank you _ .

“You all done?” Detective Tiggular asked as Michael closed his hand around his keys.

“Yeah. That's about it,” Michael answered. He was already heading towards the door when the Detective called him back.

“One more thing I want to mention to you.” Michael did a 180° to face the man. “I don't suppose you're planning on talking to that witness.” Michael blinked. “You'd better not. No influencing the witness in anyway, kid.”

“The… witness?”

“Yeah. Miss Anita Rivera. I'm sorry, but I can't tell you anything about her.”

_ Come to think of it, I had completely forgotten about her… And you just told me her name. Miss Rivera, huh? _

“So… you've sent her home already?” Michael asked. There was no point in questioning her if he didn't know where she was. If he could get any information to help Eliza's case, the better it would be.

“Don't you try any of your lawyer tricks on me! I'm not stupid. For example, I know that she's a lot safer in her hotel room than her apartment as of right now.” Michael bit back a smirk. This was too easy.

_ So... she's still in the hotel across the way. _

“I guess I should know better than to try and get a detective to leak information,” said Michael, stifling a snicker.

“You got that right!” the attorney heard the detective say as he left the office, satisfied with the information he had gotten.

_ Time to pay a visit to Miss Rivera! Thank you, Detective!  _

* * *

**September 6, 2016**

**11:44 A.M.**

**Gatewater Hotel**

**Room 303**

 

With a small bribe slipped to the hotel manager, Michael managed to find out the number room the witness was staying in. Anita Rivera gladly let him in when he came knocking.

“Hello there, handsome,” were the first words out of her mouth.

“Um, hi?” said an uncomfortable Michael as Anita shut the door behind him. He didn’t like the tone in her voice.

“You’re that lawyer, aren’t you? The detective told me. He told me not to say anything to you.” Michael rolled his eyes.

_ Memo to self: thank Detective Tiggular for making my job harder. _

“This is like something out of a movie,” said Anita, sounding enthusiastic. “I can hardly contain myself. Let me go freshen up so I can look the part of the beautiful witness!” Michael didn’t take any heed in watching her stroll into the bathroom.

_ I pity the lawyer that has to cross-examine this one.  _ Michael glanced around the room. Something in the dresser caught his eye.  _ There's a screwdriver stuck in this drawer. I wonder what's inside? Let's take a look… _

Even before Michael could open the drawer, a low growl made him stop. Anita had caught him before he could even start investigating and satisfy his curiosity.

“What are you doing?!” said Anita as she backed Michael into the dresser. “No touching. You really shouldn’t pry around in other people’s rooms. You wouldn’t want to make me upset now, would you?” She put a hand on his shoulder.

_ Upset!? I thought she was going to explode for a second there! I wonder what could be inside the drawer that she wants to hide so badly?  _ Michael pushed Anita’s hand off of him.

“Do you think you could tell me something?” Michael asked. “I need you to describe what you saw at the time of the incident, the death of Angelica Schuyler.” He still wasn't used to hearing those words.

“‘Observe’ and ‘incident,” said Anita in a mocking tone. “You sound like a lawyer from the movies. I like a man with a big… vocabulary.” She put her hand on Michael’s chest. He turned tense before smacking it off.

_ Umm...  _ Michael swallowed down growing anxiety. _ Better not encourage her. _

“About that thing that occurred… um.. happened the other day? The bad thing?” said Michael, purposefully using smaller words in his sentences. “What did you see happen? I don’t suppose you could tell me about it? Pretty please?” His voice cracked on the last syllable.

“Let me see…” Anita said with a little hum. “Dream on!” She didn’t back away. “If you want to know, you'll just have to come to the trial tomorrow Mr. Lawyer!”

_ Oh boy. _

“Um… could you…” Michael said. His personal space was extremely small and compromised l at the moment.  “Just… who exactly are you?”

“Mr. Lawyer, are you hitting on me?” Michael turned red in the face.

“No! I’m just trying to do my job!”

“You know you’re kinda cute when you blush.”

_ Believe me, this is the first time in my life I've blushed this much for a woman… _

“Um… Right…” Michael said. He stepped under Anita’s arm and out of her trap. “Can you just tell me what is it you're trying to do?”

“Well… no.” Michael could already tell what she had been trying to do. “And you had your hopes up, didn’t you?”

_ Hell no lady. All of that will only happen in your dreams. Hmm… maybe I should start wearing that pride patch again.  _ Michael took another visual sweep of the room. He spotted something sitting on the table. There were two glasses on a tray. Both of them were empty.

“Is someone staying with you?” Michael asked the woman.

“What amazing powers of observation.” Michael could hear the sarcasm return to her voice. “You must be one of those famous detectives like on television.”

“I’m a lawyer, not a detective.”

“Say Mr. Big Detective.” Anita pushed him up against the table. “Why don’t you go look for clues in the garbage?” She backed away from Michael. He was never gladder for that. “Miss Anita Rivera doesn’t like nosy little lawyers.”

_ Well, fuck you too. _

* * *

**September 6, 2016**

**1:01 P.M.**

**Hamilton Law Offices**

 

With that done, Michael continued on with his mental checklist. The next and last stop he had to make that day was down to the law offices Eliza had recommended. However, when he got there, Michael found the offices to be empty.

_ Hmm... seems like that lawyer is out. Well, maybe I should just wait here for him to come back. I have nothing else to really do at the moment so... _

Someone cleared their throat behind him.

_ If that wasn't the most over-the-top clearing of the throat I've ever heard!  _ Michael turned around to come face-to-face with the man who had nabbed his attention.

“So, you're the one they said was looking for me?” the man asked Michael.

“Yes. That would be me,” replied Michael. The man’s eyes were fixated on Michael’s jacket.

“That badge on your collar.” Michael looked down. Pinned to the lapel of his jacket was a golden, circular sunflower-shaped badge. Michael felt proud of it. It marked that he was a defense lawyer. The man before him had a similar badge. “You're a lawyer?”

“Yes.”

“What do you want? I'm not really busy these days. Please, proceed!”

_ Not busy...? _

“Something the matter?” The man asked when he saw the questionable look Michael had. “You came to see the one and only Alexander Hamilton, didn't you? Well, here I am! What is it you want?” Michael fingered the card in his pocket.

“Well, actually I'm here about Elizabeth. Elizabeth Schuyler,” he said. Hamilton grew tense at the sound of Eliza’s name. He put a hand on a silver band around one of his fingers.

“Yes… Eliza… G-Go on.” Michael eyed him with suspicion.

_ Why the strange reaction? _

“Um… she wants you to rep—” Hamilton cut him off before Michael could even finish his sentence.

“I’m really quite busy here,” said the lawyer quickly. “I can’t take her case! No, it’s impossible.” Michael began to panic.

“Wait a second! The trial’s tomorrow! She’s on her own if you don’t!”

“I’m afraid it’s entirely impossible for me to represent her. I have an important trial tomorrow myself that I cannot be taken off of.” Hamilton began to push Michael towards the door. “Sorry. End of discussion. Send my apologies to Eliza!” Michael was already out the door before he could present a counter argument. Hamilton slammed the door to his office shut as Michael stumbled out into the hallway. The rookie was in a daze over what had just happened.

_ What's going on!? He refused me before I even got a chance to ask him! What do I tell Elizabeth? _

* * *

**September 6, 2016**

**3:42 PM**

**Detention Center**

**Visitor's Room**

 

Michael dragged himself over to the detention center. He sat in his car for over an hour trying to figure out what he was going to tell Eliza. As four o’clock drew nearer and nearer, Michael forced himself to go and face the music. Before he knew what he was doing, Eliza was sitting right in front of him in the visitor’s room.

“Hi,” said Michael. He didn’t realize how dry his throat was. Eliza looked relieved to see him.

“You’re back,” she said. “Did you find him? Alexander.” Eliza was messing with the ring again. And there was the one thing Michael wanted to avoid answering. Why did it have to be the first thing she asked?

“Um… well…”

_ What do I tell her? _

“Well, you see…”

_ Just be honest! _

“I… I really don’t think you should use that guy,” said Michael. “He…” He started drifting away from the direction his moral compass was telling him to go in. “He didn’t seem healthy. You should have seen him. He was nothing but skin and bones!” The look on Eliza’s face made it clear to Michael that she didn’t buy into the hastily made up lie.

“What really happened?” Eliza asked with a sigh. Michael was quiet. He didn’t know how to gently break the truth to her. Luckily, his silence told the entire story. “You don’t mean that he refused to help?”

“No!” Michael said quickly, “No, no, no. He just…” This was harder than Michael had expected it to be. “He had an important trial tomorrow they couldn’t pull him off of.” Eliza’s hands balled up around the fabric of her clothes.

“I see. I’ve been abandoned then.” The sentence echoed in Michael’s head.

“What about your family?” he asked. Nearly everybody he knew had some familial relationship they could depend on.

“I only have my sisters and my fiancé,” Eliza explained. “My mother died when I was very young. And I don't know where my father is.”

_ Don't know...? So she could still be alive? _

“The women, and on occasion the men, in my family have been mediums for generations,” Eliza went on, “They say that ESP. runs in our blood. My father was one of those men who carried ESP. About fifteen years ago, our family got involved in an incident. There was a man and he… he…” Eliza choked on her words. “He ruined our father’s life.”

_ "Ruined"...? _

“After that, he disappeared,” Eliza concluded. “Several years later, Angelica announced that she would become a lawyer and left our home.”

“So, you live by yourself?” Michael questioned. The way Eliza’s story sounded, it made it look like she did.

“I live in my own home if that’s what you mean. I’ve gotten used to it. I had to become independent or I would lose my ESP.”

_ I feel bad for her, all by herself up on that mountain… _

“So, um…” Michael said before clearing his throat. “Who was the man who… uh… ‘ruined’ your father?”

“About fifteen years ago,” Eliza started again, “There was an unusual murder case.” Michael perked up at that. A murder case fifteen years ago… It was something that dwindled in the back of his mind. “It made quite a stir and everyone was talking about it. The police were running out of leads and were growing desperate—”

“Wait… they didn’t use a spirit medium, did they?” To Michael’s surprise, Eliza nodded for her answer.

“The police convinced my father to try and contact the victim.” Michael was in awe over that fact. It seemed like a ridiculous and impossible notion. Eliza’s reactions while telling the story, however, were genuine.

“So, what happened?”

“The case was solved, or so we thought. The man my father helped the police to capture was found innocent at his trial.” Michael’s eyes went wide. “The police’s consultation with a medium had all been carried out in secret. However, someone found out and leaked it to the press. He told all the papers that my father was a fraud. The media jumped on it like a hungry lion. He… my father… he became a laughing stock.”

“I see…” Michael said somberly. He couldn’t imagine what Eliza had gone through or what she had seen. To have something like that happen to your own father was something he couldn’t understand.

“... Mercado…” Eliza muttered. Michael perked up.

“Excuse me? Mercado?”

“That was his name. My sister told me.” Michael made a note to remember that name. Eliza’s eyes drifted over to the clock ticking on the wall. “Just a little longer now before the state-appointed lawyer comes, I guess.” Michael looked over at the clock as well. There were only a few minutes remaining until it struck four.

_ Time's almost up. What should I do? Do I just leave her and go home...?  _ Michael shook his head.  _ No. I can't!  _ He stood up, slamming his hands down on the table as if he were in court. Eliza jumped back.

“I’ve made up my mind!” he said. “I’m going to defend you whether you want me to or not!” Eliza was taken back by the sudden bout of determination.

“Why?” she asked. Michael slowly sat back down. 

“Why? Well…” Michael fell quiet. A faded memories echoed in the back of his head. A small boy put on trial for something he didn’t do… A teenager breaking down in a bathroom...

_ No one is as sad as a person without any friends. I know... I've been there. A long time ago. Its one of the reasons I became a lawyer. Because someone has to look out for the people who have no one on their side. _

“Elizabeth,” said Michael calmly. “I won’t abandon you. You can count on me!” For the first time, Michael saw a grin plaster itself on Eliza’s face. Sweet tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Th-That’s so kind of you. Th-Thank you!” Michael returned the smile.

_ Whew, she smiled at last. She looks like an entirely different person!  _ Michael began to leave when something popped into his head.

“You are innocent, right?” Michael asked Eliza. She was preparing to go with a security guard.

“Yes!” she replied. “And I trust you. So you can trust me too. Okay?” Michael gave her a nod.

“It’s a deal.” Michael and Eliza split off there. He was given a file filled with all relevant information on the case. Thoughts about the trial were dancing in Michael’s head as he left the detention center. Only one of them made him nervous.

_ This means I’ll be up against Jeremy in court. I never imagined I'd be facing him so soon… I thought it would take a couple of cases, but… no. Now’s not the time to think about that.  _ Michael got to his car, taking a moment to think out his next move.

_ So, what next... There's something that's been bugging me... Just what was inside that strange woman's drawer? It was when I tried to look into the drawer that she got all defensive. There has to be something in there! _

* * *

**September 6, 2016**

**4:58 P.M.**

**Gatewater Hotel**

**Room 303**

 

It took Michael forever to sneak back into Anita Rivera’s hotel room. He wanted to make sure that she wasn’t in there when he went to investigate. More so, he did not want another encounter like he had the last time he was there.

Michael had broken into the room when he was certain that it was empty. He wasn’t as certain as he could have been because when Michael opened the door a member of the hotel staff was there to greet him. It was one of the bellboys.

“Good afternoon, sir!” said the bellboy. “I've just come up to deliver room service, sir.” Michael glanced around the room. There was no sign of the witness there.

“Um… do you know where Miss Rivera might be?” Michael asked. He kept his voice low, just in case Anita was actually in the room somewhere.

“I believe she is currently using the, er, facilities… If you've no need of anything, I'll be taking my leave. Please, stay as long as you like. Enjoy…” The bellboy began to leave.

“Wait… no! Hey! …” Michael raised his voice by the slightest fraction.

_ Why does it seem like every time I come here, I end up embarrassing myself? Wait… now's my chance to snoop around a bit! _

“Ah, I almost forgot!” said the bellboy, catching Michael’s attention before he left the room. “Might I ask you to inform Miss Rivera that there is a message for her? Please tell her that Mr. Mercado of Shark Corp phoned.”

“Oh, right,” replied Michael. “Sure.” The bellboy left without another word.

_ Mr. Mercado... of Shark Corp? Where have I heard that name? Wait. "Mercado" was the name of the guy who ruined Angelica and Elizabeth’s father! Could it be a coincidence? _

Michael took another scan around the room. It was quiet and undisturbed from the last time he had been there. Now was his chance to see what Anita Rivera was trying to hide from him early. Taking a cautionary sweep of the room, Michael silently darted for the drawer and opened it.

Inside the drawer was a screwdriver. What Michael found next to it was more interesting. It was a small black box with different colored cables coming out the one end. He had grown up fascinated by technology. Michael never thought his technological knowledge would come in handy while being a lawyer.

_ A... wiretap? Hmm! What would a woman like her be doing with a thing like this? _

There was definitely something suspicious about Miss Rivera. It made no sense to Michael for her to have this in her hotel room. There had to be a story behind all of it. Michael pocketed the wiretap. 

_ I'll be using this bit of evidence in tomorrow's trial, that's for sure. For Elizabeth's sake... I'll get to this woman's bottom! Wait... that didn’t come out right. _

“Oh, bellboy...?” called a sultry voice from the bathroom. Michael felt a shiver run up his spine. “Still there?” Michael didn't waste a second in booking it out of the hotel room.

_ I look forward to tangoing with you tomorrow, Miss Rivera! In court! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Michael in awkward situations is oddly satisfying. Ah, one of the perks of being a writer.
> 
> Added note: I will be writing out a single case at once. Meaning that the entirety of Turnabout Sisters has been finished. While posting this, I will be working on Turnabout Samurai. This case is spread out to four chapters, plus a bonus chapter at the end for added backstory.
> 
> (Also, if anyone has any suggestions for characters in Turnabout Samurai, I'm having trouble coming up for characters that match up with Oldbag and Cody.)


	3. The State v. Elizabeth Schuyler 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael locks himself in battle rival prosecutor Jeremy Heere, who seems more than determined to get Eliza convicted. Michael has other plans. If only he could keep his thoughts in check on the path to saving Eliza.

**September 7, 2016**

**10:00 AM**

**District Court**

**Courtroom No. 1**

 

Michael had been nervous in court before, this was true. He was trying to mask it today. He wasn't on the defendant's seat, being reassured by an attorney. There wasn't anyone by his side that would guide him through cross-examinations. While Michael had been nervous in court before, the feeling was only doubled when he realized he would be on his own.

That’s when the doors to the defendant’s lobby and the prosecutor's lobby opened almost in sync. Michael watched as Eliza was lead to the defendant’s chair by a guard. She didn’t look as tired as she did the day before. Michael was impressed. He knew how hard it was to sleep in a prison cell.

And then there was _him_. Alongside Eliza, the prosecutor for the case entered the courtroom. Michael’s hands balled up as he grew tense. He hadn’t seen Jeremy Heere in person for years. There was something about Jeremy reading over the case files as he entered that just was stressful. It may have been that blue suit he was wearing, but Jeremy had just seemed to carry an overall sense of maturity around him.

Jeremy didn’t look up from the file he had in his hands until he reached the prosecutor’s bench. The file dropped onto the bench. Michael kept his face stoic as he and Jeremy locked eyes with one another.

“Michael?” said the prosecutor. His voice hadn’t changed one bit. Jeremy sounded more shocked than anything. Michael didn't answer.

_Oh, look. He remembers my name and how to talk. Great._

Michael didn’t even have the chance to answer Jeremy even if he wanted to. The Judge banged his gavel, signalling the start of the trial and for all those present to be hush.

“The court is now in session for the trial of Ms. Elizabeth Schuyler,” said the Judge.

“The prosecution is ready, Your Honor,” Jeremy said, giving a flourish with his arms.

“The defense is ready, Your Honor,” Michael echoed. Jeremy mouthed “ _the defense_ ” from across the room. Looks like someone hadn’t gotten to that portion of the case file. To be fair, Michael did take the case at the last minute.

_Jeremy Heere... I'd better not show any signs of weakness today, or he'll be on me in an instant. And not in the way I want it to be._

“Mr. Heere,” said the Judge. “Please give the court your opening statement.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Jeremy replied. “The defendant, Ms. Elizabeth Schuyler, was the first one found at the scene of the crime according to police interrogation and the defendant herself.” Michael cursed at his cooperation with the police. “The prosecution has evidence that she committed this murder. We also have a witness who saw her do it. I see no reason to doubt the facts of this case, Your Honor.”

“I see. Thank you, Mr. Heere. Let’s begin then.” This was it. This was the day Michael was waiting for: the chance to face this man in court.

“If we may call our first witness…?” Jeremy’s question was met with a short nod from the Judge. “The prosecution calls the chief officer at the scene.” Michael saw Detective Tiggular walked up to the stand. So he wasn’t lying about being in charge of the scene then. “Witness, please state your name and profession to the court.”

“My name’s Fiyero Tiggular,” said the man as he introduced himself to the court. “I’m the detective in charge of homicides down at the precinct.”

“Detective, please describe the details of the murder for the court.”

“Very well, sir.” The detective pulled out a map from his coat, holding it out to both the lawyers and the judge. Michael recognized the layout. It was the crime scene, each of which a copy had been given to the prosecutor and the defense. “The body was found by the window over here.” Tiggular tapped the map to the area in question.

“And the cause of death?” Tiggular placed the map on the witness stand.

“Loss of blood due to being struck by a blunt object, sir. The murder weapon was a statue of the ‘The Thinker’ found next to the body.”  The detective pulled out the sealed piece of evidence from his coat. “It’s heavy enough to be a deadly weapon in anyone’s hands.” The weapon was accepted into evidence and placed on the table between the prosecution and the defense.

_They're still calling it a "statue"._

“Now, Detective…” said Jeremy.

“Yes?” replied Detective Tiggular.

“You arrested Ms. Elizabeth Schuyler on the spot, correct?” The detective nodded. “Can you tell the court why?”

“Well, we have hard evidence that she committed the crime.”

“Detective Tiggular,” said the Judge. “Please testify to the court about this so-called ‘hard evidence’.” Michael leaned up against the bench. He had to listen carefully. It only took one witness last time. Who was to say that it wouldn’t happen again?

“As soon as the phone call came in, I rushed to the scene with my men,” Tiggular began to recount. “There were already two people there when we arrived: the defendant, Ms. Elizabeth Schuyler, and her lawyer, Mr. Michael Mell. I immediately arrested Ms. Schuyler. We had a witness account describing her and who saw Ms. Schuyler at the very moment of the murder!” Michael didn’t take his eyes off of the detective. He was stiff. There wasn’t any contradictions that were jumping out at him.

“The very moment, you say?” The detective nodded in response to the Judge’s question. “Very well. Mr. Mell, you may begin your cross-examination.”

“Y-Yes, your Honor,” said Michael, trying to keep a cool head.

 _Cross-examine what...? I couldn't see a single contradiction in that testimony…_ Out of nowhere, something soared through the air and struck Michael in the side of the head. He turned to see a paper ball bounce onto the bench and Eliza in a post-throw position. _Hey! Did Elizabeth just throw something at me... What's this?_

Michael, curious about what was going on, picked up the paper ball. He unfurled it. It was a note.

 _"When my sister couldn't find any contradictions in a witness's testimony she would bluff it and press the witness on every detail! The witness always slips up and says something wrong... It worked lots of times!"_ Michael hid a small smirk from the court.

 _Heh... I should have expected Elizabeth would know some of her sister's tricks!_ He shoved the note into his pocket. _Alright. Let's give this a try!_

Michael ran through the testimony in his head before starting his cross-examination.

“Detective,” said the attorney, “you said that you arrested my client because you have ‘hard evidence’ that she did it. Am I wrong?”

“Huh?” said Tiggular, as if snapping out of a trance. “Did… did I say that?”

“I heard you say it!”

“You said it,” Jeremy added, exasperated.

_So you agree with me. That’s a bit of a surprise._

“Exactly what about this suspicious woman in red’s claim was ‘hard evidence’!?” pressed Michael.

“Wh-What?!” stuttered the detective. “Miss Rivera isn’t suspicious, and she sure isn’t red. W-Well, I guess she is a little red…” Tiggular was cut off by a bang from the Judge’s gavel.

“That is enough, Detective Tiggular,” he said. “Do you have more solid proof other than her claims, Detective?” The detective began to sweat.

_Hmm! I guess pressing can have its advantages!_

“... Yes.”

_Gah! Fuck!_

“Sorry, I got the order of things mixed up in my testimony,” said Tiggular. “There was something I should have told you about first, Your Honor.”

“Very well, Detective. Let's hear your testimony again.”

“After securing the people there, I examined the scene of the crime with my own eyes,” Tiggular testified again, “I found a memo written on a piece of paper next to the victim’s body. On it was the word ‘Eliza’ written clearly in blood. Lab results showed that the blood was the victim’s. There was also blood found on the victim’s finger. It's not that hard to conclude that before her death, the victim wrote the killer’s name.” Michael was afraid of that. “How do you like that? That’s my ‘hard evidence’!” Michael looked down at the file he had. Angelica’s autopsy report stared back at him.

_I don't need to think about this one. There's a contradiction glaring me right in the face._

“OBJECTION!” shouted Michael. “Detective Tiggular! There's one thing I want you to clarify for me here. You say that the victim, Angelica Schuyler, wrote this note. That she was accusing the defendant, Elizabeth Schuyler? That's really what you're saying?”

“This isn’t one of those lawyer tricks, is it?” said the detective. “Of course she wrote it! Who else could have?” The trap had been set off.

“You have it backwards, Detective.”

“B-Backwards?”

“The victim is the only person who could have not written it!” Michael held up the autopsy report for the raggedy man’s view. “This is a report from your department. It states that death was immediate due to a single blow from a blunt object. The keyword here is immediate. She died instantly!” There was loud chatter circulating from the gallery.

“But—!”

“No ‘but’-ing your way out of this one, Detective!” The Judge called for order.

“The defense has a point,” he said once everything had calmed down. Things began to flow in the defense’s favor.

“Someone who died immediately wouldn’t have time to write anything down,” Michael added on to his point. A small snicker from across the courtroom is what made him falter. It was coming from the prosecution.

“Mr. Mell,” said Jeremy. Michael didn’t like the overly confident look on his face. “I’m sorry to ask, but when exactly did you get that autopsy report?”

“Um… It was the day after the murder. Around 4:00.” Michael remembered being handed it by an officer, along with the rest of the case file, when he accepted the position of Eliza’s lawyer. “Why?”

“That autopsy report is outdated.” Michael froze in place.

“What?”

“A second autopsy was performed yesterday at my request.” Jeremy withdrew his own copy of the autopsy report and began to read out loud. “‘Death was _almost_ immediate due to a blow from a blunt object. There is a possibility the victim lived for several minutes after the blow.’ I received these results this morning, your Honor. It’s quite easy to imagine that the victim did have time to write her killer’s name.”

“I see…” said the Judge. The ball bounced back into Jeremy’s court.

_Dammit, Jeremy! I should have known you'd have something up your sleeve. I didn't want to believe it but…_

“Why, Mr. Mell, you look shocked!” said Jeremy. Michael never heard him speak so sarcastically before. “Something you want to say?” Michael dug his nails into the palms of his hands.

“Mr. Heere,” said Michael, keeping his tone bitter and flat. “I’ve heard that there’s nothing you won’t do to get your verdict. What reason could you possibly have had to request a second autopsy report?” To Michael’s surprise, Jeremy looked hurt at the accusation.

“Mr. Mell!” snapped the Judge. “The defense will refrain from personal attacks on the prosecution.”

“No matter, Your Honor,” Jeremy said as he regained his composure. “Say what you will, Mr. Mell, but the evidence is that the report is undeniable.” Michael snatched another copy of the report from an officer nearby when she gave it to him. This wasn’t going as well as he had hoped. “Well, your Honor? The evidence strongly suggests the victim was identifying the killer.”

“I suppose that’s the obvious conclusion.”

_Damn! This isn't good!_

“The prosecution would like to call its next witness,” Jeremy continued. “The poor, innocent girl who saw the murder with her own eyes. The prosecution calls Anita Rivera to the stand.” The promiscuous woman who had Michael in a headlock the day before took to the stand.

 _Exactly what part of her is "innocent"...?_ Michael could see more than he wanted to with what she was wearing.

“Witness, state your name for the court record,” said the prosecutor.

“Anita Rivera. At your service!” Miss Rivera leaned forward. There were whistles and cat calls from a majority of the male audience and a minority of the female audience in the gallery. The Judge called for order.

“An introduction should not require any reaction from the crowd!” he said.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

_This is not good… She's already captured the heart of every man in the court! Well… almost every man. I can say with reassured confidence that I don’t follow the beat to that tune._

“Tell us,” said Jeremy to the witness. “Where were you on the night of September the fifth when the murder occurred?”

“I was in my hotel room,” Miss Rivera answered. “The head bellboy checked me in right after lunch.”

“And this would be the hotel directly across from Schuyler & Co. Law Offices?”

“That’s right.”

“Please testify about what you saw,” ordered the Judge. If this was anything like their meeting yesterday, Michael knew that the testimony and the following cross-examination would be interesting.

“It was 9:00 at night. I looked out the window and saw a woman with long hair being attacked!” testified Anita. “The one attacking her was the girl sitting in the defendant's chair! Then the woman dodged to one side and ran. But that girl caught up with her and… and… She hit her! The woman with long hair… she kinda slumped. That's all I saw before I called the police.”

“Well your Honor?” Jeremy asked the Judge when Miss Rivera finished up her testimony.

“I see…” said the Judge. “It is a remarkably solid testimony. I don't see a need to trouble the witness any—”

“Wait your Honor!” shouted Michael. He couldn't let that testimony go as “solid”. It would lead to Eliza being convicted in a heartbeat.

“Yes, Mr. Mell?”

“What about my cross-examination?”

“I thought the witness's testimony just now was quite… firm. Didn't you?” Michael shook his head.

“Mr. Mell.” Michael glanced over at Jeremy as he called for him. “I understand that you were Ms. Angelica Schuyler’s understudy. Right?” Michael didn't like where this was going. He nodded. “You must know her techniques as well. Her cowardly ways of finding even the tiniest of faults in perfectly good test—” Jeremy was cut off my Michael slamming his hands down on the bench. That had done it.

“How dare you,” Michael said. “Did you even know her? She wasn't a coward! She wasn't—”

“Mr. Mell!” The Judge’s angry voice was enough to get Michael to back down. It didn’t quell his anger though. “Will you cross-examine the witness?”

“I will gladly proceed with my cross-examination.”

_If only because I have a feeling Jeremy doesn't want me to! She has to have some weakness! But what?!_

“How do you know it was the defendant who attacked Miss Schuyler?” Michael asked the witness.

“Well…” Anita said. It looked as if though she was having trouble finding the right words to say. “S-She had a girlish physique. Women know these things.” Michael raised an eyebrow at her statement. “Look, I just know, okay?”

“Last I checked, there was only one person at the scene of the crime who has a girlish figure,” Jeremy added to solidify the claim. “The testimony is bulletproof, your Honor.”

 _He's right, there's no way I can…_ Michael looked over at Eliza. Better yet, he caught a look at what she was wearing. _Wait a minute. There it is!_

“Hold on a minute!” said Michael. “Her testimony stinks!”

“W-What!?” stuttered Miss Rivera.

“Miss Rivera, I’m willing to bet that you are lying to the court. Tell the truth. Did you really see the defendant?” Anita made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a cat being strangled. Michael knew with confidence that he was starting to back her into a corner.

“Mr. Mell!” called the Judge. “What's the meaning of this?”

“Yes, what is the meaning?” added on Anita. Her claws were digging to the stand. “Somebody tell me because I'm clueless about this.”

“Okay. Take a look at my client for a moment. I don’t know about anybody else, but her figure wasn’t the first thing that I noticed about her when we first met,” Michael explained. “If you had really witnessed Elizabeth Schuyler committing the act, you would have noticed her clothes before her physique!” Anita’s reaction only strengthened Michael’s claim. She began to look nervous. “No one who was at the scene of the crime that night wears clothes like this but her! And I’m obviously no expert on fashion, but her style looks far from normal to me. However, the witness’s testimony mentions neither of these things!”

“But… But!”

“Still,” said the Judge, “we don't know if she was dressed that way the night of the murder—”

“She was, Your Honor!” Michael cut in. “Both Detective Tiggular and I saw her. It should also be noted by the court that since her arrest, Miss Schuyler hasn’t been able to change her clothes. What do you say to that, Miss Rivera?” Anita growled at Michael.

“What are you trying to say, you nasty lawyer?” she said, trying to keep her attractiveness act going, “I saw what I saw! I… I just didn’t think all the little details were necessary.”

“Miss Rivera,” said the Judge firmly. “The court would like to remind you to please omit nothing in your testimony.”

“I’m sorry, your Honor. I’ll be good. I promise.”

“Your testimony again, if you would.”

_Damn, I almost had her!_

“I did see everything! I did!” said a panicked Anita. “The victim—that woman—dodged the first attack and ran off to the right. Then the girl in the hippie clothes ran after her… And she hit her with that weapon! I saw it! I did! That… that clock! Um… the kinda statue-y clock? ‘The Thinker,’ I think? Well? Does the accuracy of my report not startle you?”

_It might seem accurate, but there has to be a contradiction! … Wait, did she just call the weapon a clock? But Tiggular submitted it as a statue… Oh. Oh!_

“OBJECTION!” Michael shouted. “Miss Rivera, what you just said was quite revealing.”

“Revealing? Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you,” said Anita. “Naughty Mr. Lawyer…”

_Oh honey, you wish._

“You just said that the statue of ‘The Thinker’ was a clock. But there's no way of knowing that just by looking at it!” Anita began to panic, evident by the sweat on her face. “Another person was in the same position as you recently, calling this a clock as well. And he was found guilty of murder!” The questioning from the gallery rose up like a triumphant victory cheer. The Judge immediately called for order. Michael continued on.

“Miss Rivera, care to explain how you know this is a clock?” Anita looked like she was about to burst. There would be scratches on the witness stand from her gripping it so tightly.

“OBJECTION!” Michael paled at the sound of Jeremy’s shout. “The witness saw the murder with her own eyes! That's all that's important here. The defense is trying to confuse the issue with trivial concerns.”

“Yes... yes, of course,” agreed the Judge. “You will withdraw your question, Mr. Mell.”

“OBJECTION!” Michael shouted. He couldn't back down. Not when he was close to breaking her. “But questions are all I have, Your Honor! And as you may recall, I've caught murderers with these questions before!”

_Well, only once… but my point still stands!_

“... Objection sustained. You may continue to question the witness.”

_Whew, that was close. If he stopped me there, the trial would be over!_

“What?” said Anita. It as easy to tell by the forcefulness of her voice that she was pissed. “So what happens now?”

“What happens now is that you answer my question,” Michael told her. Her answer might just be what would turn the case on its head. “How did you know it was a clock?”

“Th-That’s because… because… I heard it? Yes! I heard it say the time!” Michael knew that was impossible. There was only one way to hear the clock speak.

“So, you’ve been to the law offices of Schuyler & Co. then…?”

“N-N-No! Hey, I didn’t say that! Why would I go there anyway? I heard that clock from my hotel room.”

“The law offices of Schuyler & Co., where the murder took place, are very close to the hotel,” Jeremy added to the witness’s statement. “You should know this. She could easily have heard the clock from where she was.”

“Well, Mr. Mell,” said His Honor, “Are you satisfied?”

“No, your Honor!” Angelica would not be proud of Michael if he just stopped now.

_I can't give up now!_

“I’m not satisfied because it couldn’t have rung,” said Michael. “Your Honor… members of the court… It is impossible that the clock could have rang. It’s missing its clockwork!”

“H-How could you have possibly…?” Michael walked out from behind the bench and to the evidence table. He picked up the clock, attempting to pry off the bottom of it. Apparently the screws weren’t loose enough for Michael to take off the bottom on his own.

“Um… anybody have a screwdriver…?”

“I have a Swiss army knife!” Michael looked up to see a young girl in blue jogging down from the gallery. She couldn’t have been any older than twelve. She was holding out the tool to Michael. He took it from her.

“Er… thank you…”

 _Who brings a kid to a murder trial?_ With the help from the army standard tool, Michael was able to get the bottom of the clock off. When Michael handed back the Swiss army knife to the girl, she was beaming. She ran back up to her mother in the stands as Michael went on with his cross-examination. He handed the clock up to the judge.

“Have a look,” he said. The Judge’s eyes went wide when he saw what was inside the clock, or better yet, what _wasn’t_ inside the clock. “See anything interesting, Your Honor?”

“It is as the defense says!” said the Judge. This clock is missing its clockwork! It's quite empty! Mr. Mell! Would you care to explain to the court the meaning of this?”

“It’s just as you see.” Michael took back the clock and returned it to the evidence table. “The clock was empty. It couldn’t have rung! Therefore, the witness is a big, fat liar!” Anita didn’t take being called a fat liar too well.

“F-Fat?!”

“Well, Miss Rivera?”

“Quite a show you’ve put on for us, Mr. Mell,” said Jeremy as Michael returned to his place behind the defense’s bench. Michael didn’t like the smug look on his face. “I’m afraid you’ve forgotten one thing. The clock is empty, I’ll accept that. But I must ask… when was the clockwork removed? If it was after the witness heard the clock, then there are no contradictions!” Jeremy did have a decent point.

“That's true,” agreed the Judge. “That is a possibility. The clock might have been emptied after she heard it.”

“And that is exactly what happened, your Honor.”

“Well, Mr. Mell? Can you prove when the clockwork was removed?” Michael thought about the evidence he had. Something that sat in his pocket suddenly felt heavier. Michael pressed a hand up against it. He made a silent note to thank the kind detective.

“I have proof,” said Michael. The prosecution looked stunned.

“Wh-What?!”

“Wasn’t it you who once told me that proof is everything? Well, I was listened. Now, I’ll show you the ‘proof’ you like so much.” Micheal withdrew a cellphone from his pocket. More specifically, Michael took out Eliza’s phone. “Take a look at this.”

“That's a very cute cell phone,” said the Judge. The witness openly laughed at him.

“You have a girly phone!” That wasn’t the reaction Michael had been expecting. To be fair, Eliza’s phone was more feminine in the style of the case she had chosen.

“Wait, this isn’t my phone!” said Michael as he placed down the phone. “This is the defendant’s cellphone. It contains a recording of a conversation she had with the victim on the day of the murder.” Chatter rose up from the court.

“The defendant's cell phone!?” said Jeremy, still trying to comprehend this new evidence. “Th-This wasn't brought to my attention!”

“Perhaps Detective Tiggular overlooked it?” Jeremy grumbled something under his breath. Out of the corner of his eye, Michael saw Tiggular slowly inching towards the door.

_My heart goes out to you, Jeremy. Not. Fuck off._

“Let's hear the conversation.” Michael pressed a button on the phone. Out loud, Angelica’s and Eliza’s recorded voices filled the courtroom.

_“Hello? This is Elizabeth Schuyler speaking.”_

_“Hey Eliza. It's me.”_

_“Angelica! What's up? You haven't called me in a while.”_

_“Er… Sorry about that. I've been really busy. How have you been?”_

_“Well, lonely for one. And it's all your fault. I'm just teasing. Peggy’s been keeping me company. But, I've been great. I finally got my own place “_

_“That’s good to hear. Actually, I'm calling because I have a favor to ask.”_

_“I know, I know. You want me to hold evidence for you?”_

_“Sharp as always. There's a lot of buzz about the upcoming trial. I don't feel safe keeping the evidence in the office.”_

_“I got it. So, what is it this time?”_

_“It's a clock.”_

_“A… clock?”_

_“Yeah. It's made to look like the statue, ‘The Thinker’. I thought you might like it. You did always like toys.”_

_“I'm not a little girl anymore.”_

_“You know I'm just messing with you. Though… I should tell you that the clock isn't talking right now.”_

_“Huh? Not talking? Angelica, are you okay?”_

_“Sorry. I guess I should explain. If you turn the neck of the statue on the top of the clock, it says the time. I had to take the clockwork out to put some papers inside.”_

_“Papers? Is that the evidence then?”_

_“Yes. Can you come by the office tonight to pick them up? Say… around 9:00? I'll, unfortunately, be in a pre-trial meeting until then. Sorry.”_

_“It's okay. But I expect dinner. Something good!”_

_“Okay, okay. We'll hit the usual joint.”_

_“Alright, it's a deal! Okay, see you soon Angelica!”_

_“I'll be waiting Eliza.”_

The recording ended with a feminine, robotic voice announcing: “Call recorded on September 5, 9:27 AM.”

“Your Honor, I think this recording makes it clear that the clockwork was already gone before the murder,” announced Michael, “In fact, it proves that it had taken place in the morning, long before the witness had even arrived at her hotel!” Anita had no words. She couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. “Well, Miss Rivera? Would you care to explain to the court how you knew that the weapon was actually a clock?”

“W-Well…” Anita stuttered. “I-Isn't it obvious? I saw that clock before. Uh… It was from uh… Whoops! I go to so many stores, I guess I must have forgotten!”

“So the witness had seen it before,” recapped the Judge. “That would make sense. Does the defense have any objections, Mr. Mell?” Michael was willing to call bullshit on Anita Rivera’s answer.

“The witness claims that she had ‘seen it before’,” said Michael. “This contradicts a piece of evidence already submitted to the court. This clock was never in any store ever!”

“W-What?!” Anita screamed.

“A friend of mine made that clock. Only two exist in the world, and the other one should still be in police custody!” The police couldn’t be that incompetent to lose a piece of evidence.

“I-Impossible! Everything is sold in stores!”

“Miss Rivera, I think it’s high time you went shopping for a better excuse.” Michael snickered under his breath as the witness growled at him. “Oh, are excuses not on sale today?” Anita finally got pushed off of the edge. She screamed, her shriek echoing off of the walls of the court.

“What is it to you, you son of a bitch!? That stupid clock doesn’t matter!” yelled Anita. “She did it! And she should die for it!” Eliza turned sickly pale at the accusation. “Die!”

“W-W-Whoa! Let’s not get ahead of ourselves!” said the Judge in a failed attempt to calm the witness down.” Th-This is a court of law, and the witness will remain calm!”

“And the prosecution's wishes that the witness not bring up the defense's mother,” said Jeremy. “She happens to be a very nice woman.”

_He sticks up for my mom, but not for me. Ouch. Well. To be fair, he is right._

Anita growled, looking to both lawyers between her. Her anger turned into laughter.

“S-Silly me,” said the woman. “Did… Did I lose it?”

“Miss Rivera, let me ask,” the Judge said to her. “Tell me, how did you know the weapon was a clock?” Anita was silent. “Hmm… oh dear. Does the defense have an opinion on this behavior?”

_Okay, this is it!_

“Yes, Your Honor,” Michael replied. “Allow me to explain how I see the situation. Miss Anita Rivera knew the weapon was a clock because she had heard about it. The witness never held it in her hand. She just had heard about it!”

“She ‘heard’...?”

“That is correct. There is no other way she could have known that ‘The Thinker’ was a clock, and I have proof.”

“Well, this is interesting. Let's see it, then. Show me evidence proving that the witness had ‘heard’ the murder weapon was a clock.” Once again, Michael held up Eliza’s phone in his hand. It was all the evidence that he needed.

“Once again, I present my client’s phone. Take another listen to the conversation between the defendant and the victim.” Michael pressed play on the recording.

_“Angelica! What's up? You haven't called me in a while.”_

_“Er… Sorry about that. I've been really busy. How have you been?”_

_“Well, lonely for one. And it's all your fault. I'm just teasing. Peggy’s been keeping me company. But, I've been great. I finally got my own place “_

_“That’s good to hear. Actually, I'm calling because I have a favor to ask.”_

_“I know, I know. You want me to hold evidence for you?”_

_“Sharp as always. There's a lot of buzz about the upcoming trial. I don't feel safe keeping the evidence in the office.”_

_“I got it. So, what is it this time?”_

_“It's a clock.”_

_“A… clock?”_

_“Yeah. It's made to look like the statue, ‘The Thinker’. I thought you might like it. You did always like toys.”_ Michael cut the recording off there. There was quiet in the court.

“They do mention ‘The Thinker’...” said the Judge. “But how would the witness know of this?” The other object sitting in Michael’s pocket would finally come in handy. He was kinda glad that he went back to Rivera’s hotel room. Michael placed the phone down on the bench. He brought out his second piece of damning evidence. The wiretap.

“Have a look at this,” said the attorney.“I found this in Miss Rivera's room.” He dangled the device out in front of him for the court to see. “This is a wiretap, Your Honor.”

“A… A what?!” stuttered the prosecution. Most news articles described Jeremy as being ‘cool’ and ‘calm’ in the courtroom. Michael wasn’t seeing any of that now.

“Miss Rivera, you used the wiretap to listen to this conversation!” Michael continued. “That’s how you knew that the murder weapon was a clock! Am I wrong?”

“I… I…” Just one more push and Michael would get the confession he needed. That as until…

“O-OBJECTION!” shouted the prosecution. “Your Honor, this is ridiculous!”

“Your Honor, does the witness seemed amused to you?!” countered Michael. Anita Rivera looked like she was about to chuck one of her high heels into Michael’s face. “The defense demands an answer.” Anita could not form a sentence that didn't come out sounding like an angry bear was speaking.

“Witness, answer the question!” ordered the Judge. “Did you tap her phone?” The witness didn’t answer. “Miss Rivera!”

“Shut up, all of you!” Anita yelled. “What gives you the right to talk to me like that!?” Her expression dropped. Her face was painted in realization as the court stared at her. Michael knew why. “I-It’s not fair! All of you g-ganging up on me like that… So I’m the bad guy, is that it? Is it?!” She was trying to rebuild lost sympathy.

_That did it! The court's seen the real Miss Anita Rivera now! Now to deal the final blow!_

“Miss Rivera, you killed Angelica Schuyler, didn’t you?” asked Michael. There were loud conversations growing. The Judge called for order as Michael continued his pressing of the witness.

“What? How could you possibly say that?!” said Anita. She was angrier than ever. “I did what I was told to do! All I did was a little wiretap—!” She cut herself off there. It was too late for her.

“So you admit that you tapped her phone!”

“Yes but… I didn’t do anything!” Anita growled at Michael. “I didn’t murder her!”

“Really? Can you prove it?”

_No way can she prove it!_

“You think you’re so smart, don't you?” said Anita. “I can prove it. And I will! The killing happened around 9:00 at night, right? That’s when I was getting room service from the sweet bellboy.”

“R-Room service?”said Michael. This had to been a trick.

“Ice coffee, I believe I asked for? You know, like normal coffee but cold. You have to drink it quick, otherwise it will turn into regular, cold coffee.” Michael was dumbstruck. He did not see this coming. He swore that he had her pegged as the killer. “Ask the bellboy. He’ll confirm my story.” Jeremy was more smug than ever.

“Our witness’s confession reveals that she was not at the scene of the crime at the time of the murder,” said Prosecutor Heere, “Though… It is my great displeasure to inform the court that the witness appears to have been tapping to victim’s phone. However, that is a separate crime and has no bearing on the current case at hand. Her testimony still stands! She saw the defendant, Elizabeth Schuyler, commit murder!”

_No! They're going to let her just walk away! There's no way I can win this unless I tie Miss Rivera to the murder somehow…_

“Well?” said the Judge. _Think Michael. Think!_ “Does the defense have anything to say?”

“Um, well…” said Michael. His thoughts were racing in his head.

 _Come on, think of something! Who can give me what I need._ A single possible thing came to Michael. It was ridiculous, but it seemed to be the only way to keep Eliza from Death Row.

“The defense would like to call the hotel bellboy as a witness!” he said. “There’s something suspicious here, and I'm going to get to the bottom of this!”

“OBJECTION!” Jeremy shouted. Michael couldn’t clearly read the expression on his face. It was stuck between confusion and wanting to throw something across the courtroom. “I object to calling the bellboy!”

“Your reason being…?”

“I say that the wiretapping had nothing to do with the murder!” Shit. Jeremy could possibly hold a valid point. “However… if you agree to one condition, I’ll consent to calling the bellboy.”

“Um… condition?” Michael asked. He didn’t like the sound of it.

“If Miss Rivera’s alibi is not called into question after you examine the bellboy, then you will recognize that she is innocent of the killing! If this happens, you must accept the guilty verdict for Ms. Elizabeth Schuyler. That is my condition.”

_What...!? I'd better find something suspicious in that bellboy's testimony… Otherwise Elizabeth will be declared "guilty" on the spot! What should I do...? Alright! I've got nothing to lose! Except for… well, everything!_

“Understood,” Michael said, nodding in turn. “I accept your condition.” It wasn’t like he had much of a choice.

“Very well!” said the Judge. “The court will take a recess to retrieve the hotel bellboy!”

* * *

 

**September 7, 2016**

**12:17 P.M.**

**District Court**

**Defendant Lobby No. 1**

Michael paced back and forth in the defendant’s lobby. He was alone, with Eliza escaping to use the bathroom for a few minutes before having to return to the courtroom. The tension he felt was increasing the nervous feeling in his stomach. He couldn’t believe that he had made that deal. Now, Eliza’s fate was riding on one man’s testimony. It wasn’t a comforting thought.

“Michael!” shouted a voice. Michael halted his pacing, standing frozen like a deer in headlights. Jeremy’s footsteps raced up behind him. Michael didn’t answer to his call.

“Michael, I know you can hear me,” said Jeremy. Michael still kept up his quiet. “Michael Mell!” If he kept this up, someone would overhear. Michael released a heavy breath.

“Oh look,” he said, not turning to face the prosecutor. “He remembers who I am. How nice.”

“Michael…” Michael slowly turned around to face him. It took only a second for him to realize that Jeremy had ran from the prosecutor’s lobby to meet him.

“What is it you want?” Jeremy glanced around the room.

“Your client. Where…?”

“She’s in the bathroom.” Michael kept his fingers crossed that Eliza would come back soon so Jeremy could leave. “Answer my question, Heere. What do you want?”

“First off, what the hell?!” Jeremy pushed back his hair in his exasperation. “Since when did you become a defense attorney?!”

“Uh… since sometime near the end of July when I passed the bar…” That had to have been one of the more stressful days in Michael’s life. “Angelica gave me a job at her firm when she heard I passed. I actually had my first case a few days later.” Michael’s sarcastic answer was not the one Jeremy had been looking for, but it was the one he went with.

“Why would she take a novice fresh off the bar like you?” Those words stung. The memory linked to the answer and the reason why were both painful. Michael and Angelica’s first meeting had not been under good circumstances.

“That’s none of your business. That’s a private matter between her and me.”

_And the police records, but Jeremy doesn’t need to know that._

“Michael,” said Jeremy, taking in a breath in between his words, “Why are you a defense attorney? I thought you wanted to… to… to do something else?”

_Did he really forget? I’ve been telling him what my previous dream was for about ten years._

“Isn’t it obvious?” Michael responded.

“No, no it isn’t,” Jeremy said with a shake of his head. _It should be to you._

“You should get back the prosecutor’s lobby.” Michael gestured towards the door. “The trial’s going to start back up again soon, and I believe you need to talk with the witness. That’s what prosecutors do, right?”

“I…” Michael was right. Jeremy said not another word. He left almost as quickly as he came. There was a stagnant silence in the air. Michael sighed, leaning up against the wall.

_Jeremy… Can’t you figure it out? You’re the supposed genius._

* * *

**September 7, 2016**

**12:35 P.M.**

**District Court**

**Courtroom No. 1**

 

Court was soon back in session before Michael even realized. Everyone had settled down into their places as the trial picked back up. The battle between Michael and Jeremy continued. Michael could feel his nervous tension only get worse. This was his one shot. He had to pull out only a single contradiction in the bellboy’s testimony to save Eliza.

The bellboy took to the stands on Jeremy’s call. He was still dressed in his work uniform. Well, that only played into the set scene. At the Judge’s order, the bellboy gave his testimony.

“I am the head bellboy at the fine Gatewater Hotel,” the hotel employee began. “I believe I received a call after 8:00 in the evening from our guest, Miss Anita Rivera. She asked that an ice coffee to be brought to her room at 9:00 on the dot. I brought it to her at precisely the requested time. I delivered it to Miss Rivera herself.” With the Judge’s signal, Michael began his cross-examination.

 _I hope… This is it… If I can't prove Miss Rivera was involved with the murder now… Elizabeth will be finished!_ Michael couldn’t hear anything wrong with the bellboy’s testimony. There was one tactic to try now.

“You brought it to her ‘precisely’ at 9:00?” Michael asked the witness.

“Exactly at 9:00 P.M.,” the bellboy replied.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Miss Rivera was quite insistent that it was bought at that time. She repeated several times that she wanted her coffee bought at 9:00.”

_Why would she be so particular about the time?_

“And you’re sure that is was Miss Anita Rivera herself who answered the door?” Michael questioned.

“Absolutely, sir.”

“How can you be so certain?” Michael himself couldn’t even remember the cashier at the corner store Angelica would constantly send him to when he was fresh out of law school. And the bellboy and Anita had only met once.

“Well, when I brought the coffee to her…” The bellboy turned bright red. “Sh-She… the guest that is, favored me w-with a… um… an _embrasser._ ” Michael stared at him.

“A what?” The word sounded French. Michael knew very little about the language beyond a few basic words.

“It’s French for ‘kiss’. But not a french kiss!” That was too much information than Michael wanted. “It was more of a peck on the cheek.”

“Why would she have done that?” Michael wondered out loud.

“I believe, perhaps, that she was momentarily swayed by my demeanor, sir. It was a moment I shall never, ever forget.”

 _Sounds pretty fishy to me… I think our Miss Rivera was up to something and wanted the bellboy to remember her!_ Michael continued to press his witness, trying to get every bit of information out of him as he possibly could. Each question turned up with a blank result. _It’s no good! There's nothing there! Is… is that it!?_

“Do you finally understand, Mr. Mell?” said Jeremy when Michael asked his last question. “The bellboy has no reason to lie. If you have any decency, you will end this repetitive cross-examination here.”

“It was a bit tedious,” muttered the Judge. No. “The witness may leave the stand.”

_I can't let this happen… can I? No...! If I give up now, I lose everything… If I just give up the case, I'd be giving up the very reason I became a lawyer!_

“W-Wait!” shouted Michael before the bellboy could take a step off of the stand. “Please! Wait!”

“Yes? Does the defense have something to add?” There had to be something wrong with the bellboy’s testimony. One contradiction. That's all Michael needed. Just one contradiction!

“One last question. Please, let me ask just one last question!”

“OBJECTION!” shouted Jeremy, leaning over the bench in Michael’s direction. “Your Honor, I have to object. This charade of justice has gone on long enough.”

“Now, now, Mr. Heere. Calm down.” Jeremy backed down at the Judge’s order. “Alright Mr. Mell. I'll give you one more question, that's all.”

_Okay. This is really it, now. This is my last chance! What do I ask him about...!? What did the bellboy leave out…? Miss Rivera testified about when she checked in, her time at the hotel and… wait, that’s it!_

“Tell me about the check-in!” Michael said to the bellboy. “Tell me about when you checked in Miss Rivera. She told us you were the one who did it.” For second, Michael swore he saw the bellboy and Jeremy exchange glances with one another.

“Very well…” said the bellboy. “My first thought when I saw her was that she was a beautiful person. She’s just my type of girl, so it was a disappointment, really.” There it was.

“Excuse me?” asked Michael. “What exactly was a ‘disappointment’?”

“While I’m not without charm, sir, even I would have very little chance with Miss Rivera while her lover was there.” Michael’s eyes widened. Oh, it was definitely there.

_What did he say!?_

“What did you say?!” exclaimed Michael. The bellboy bit down on his tongue, muttering words under his breath. “Tell us the truth. Did Miss Rivera check in with another person?”

“I object!” shouted Jeremy before the bellboy could answer. “That was… objectionable!”

“Objection overruled,” said the Judge, giving Jeremy the stink eye. “The witness will answer the question.” The bellboy hesitated.

“Y-Yes…” he said at long last. Oh, Michael was having a field day with this.

“Why did you not mention this in your testimony?” he said.

“W-Well, you… er… you didn’t ask!”

_Nice try!_

“That’s normally the sort of thing you’re supposed to mention in a testimony,” said Michael, point blank.

“Ah, yes… Indeed. It was the… the man over there, Mr. Heere who—” The bellboy tried to cut himself off, but it was too late. The entire court had heard his statement. Michael locked eyes with an angry Jeremy. Everything was going according to Michael’s plan, and breaking apart Jeremy’s apparent scheme. “He asked me to not mention it if I was specifically asked.” Jeremy’s silence told all.

 _I've done it... I've won!_ _Take that Jeremy Heere!_

“Miss Anita Rivera checked into a twin room with a man,” Michael summarized. “Am I right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you see the man in question when you brought Miss Rivera her room service?”

“No, sir.” Michael had hit the nail on the head. The testimony had been vital to his case. And that statement just proved it.

“Your Honor, we've just learned of another person involved. I think that there's the possibility that this person may have been the murderer! In this new light, I hold that it's impossible  to judge the defendant. Don't you agree, Mr. Heere?” Jeremy’s hands were shaking. He slammed them down on the bench.

“Just who is this ‘other person’ you're talking about?!” he demanded.

“Simple. It was the man who checked in with Miss Rivera!” The look on Jeremy’s face showed that he had the same realization Michael did. “Your Honor. As it has been revealed, Miss Anita Rivera was tapping our victim’s phone. Yet, Miss Rivera has an alibi at the time the murder took place. However, this does not clear the man that was with her! The bellboy saw no one else in room during the time in question!”

“Wh-What a convenient little setup,” Jeremy stuttered. He dug his fingers into the palm of his hand before resuming. “However, it's too late.”

“Too late?” Michael repeated. “Is suppose you would like it if it was too late, wouldn’t you? Weren't you the one who hid the presence of this other man from the court?” Jeremy looked like Michael had just brutally stabbed him in the back.

“Upstart! Amateur! A-All of these accusations are… They're ridiculous!” A loud bang ceased the argument between the prosecution and the defense.

“Enough! The court acknowledges the defense's argument,” said the Judge. Michael smirked. “I expect the prosecution and defense to look into this matter fully! Am I understood?”

“Yes…” said Jeremy Heere, defeated. “Yes, your Honor.”

“That is all today for the trial of Elizabeth Schuyler. Court is adjourned!”

* * *

 

**September 7, 2016**

**2:24 PM**

**District Court**

**Defendant Lobby No. 1**

 

Michael raced out to the defendant's lobby to meet Eliza as soon as the Judge dismissed the prosecution and defense from the courtroom.

“Mr. Mell!” said Eliza when Michael slowed his run. “You were amazing in there.”

“R-Really?” Michael said, panting a little.

“I think I might be your newest fan.” Pride crept into Michael’s veins and onto his face.

“Well, you know. I was just doing my job and all.”

“Then again, that other attorney was pretty cool, too.”

“What?” Confusion took the place of any pride Michael had left.

“What with that face of his,” said Eliza, going on about how Jeremy was during the trial. Michael’s face turned a darker shade of red with each part of her description. “His eyes were wide every time you turned the trial around. His lips were trembling near the end when he spoke. All of it sent shivers up my spine!”

“I-If you say so,” said Michael. His face was the color of a ripe tomato.

_Don't think about Jeremy. Don't think about Jeremy. Don't think about Jeremy._

“So… what happens to me?” Eliza asked when Michael returned to his normal color. “Do I get to go home now?” Michael shook his head. Then again, he himself never had the chance to spend another day in detention after his own trial.

“Well, no,” Michael answered. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh… I see..” Eliza looked like someone had just kicked a puppy in front of her and out onto a busy highway.

“But I got a great lead in today’s trial!” Michael said quickly. Eliza perked up.

“A lead?”

“Yeah. That man that was with Miss Rivera. I just know that he’s the key to unraveling this whole mess.”

“I think I get it. Speaking of which, what happened to Miss Rivera anyway?” Michael rubbed the spot where Anita threw the shoe at him before he got the chance to leave the courtroom.

“They arrested her,” he said. “She’s probably in the detention center now. I may have to go down there to get information out of her later.” He sighed. “I have to find out more about this man.”

“Do you think that he was the one who—?” Eliza bit down on her lip. Michael knew what she was going to say.

“Maybe.”

“Angelica…” Eliza started to tear up again. Michael put his hand on her shoulder as a sign of comfort. Eliza darted forward into Michael’s arms. He wavered for a moment, after all they didn’t know each other well. Michael felt something prick his eyes. He embraced Eliza. Neither had solace in Angelica’s death Maybe they would find it in each other. They stood like that for a while. Michael and Eliza only broke apart when a bailiff came by to escort Eliza back to the detention center.

“Don’t worry, Eliza,” Michael called out to his client as she and the bailiff left the defendant’s lobby. “I’ll find him by tomorrow. I promise!”

“I’m counting on you!” Eliza called back before heavy doors shut behind her, separating her from Michael.

* * *

_I asked for a full record of Anita Rivera's testimony. I thought it might come in handy during the trial tomorrow. But now that I have it, I'm not so sure. Most of her testimony was just lies… In fact, there's only one part that got left on the record._

_I don't know how much good this will do me at all, now. Anyway, time to hit the pavement and do some investigating! Eliza doesn't belong in that detention center, and it's up to me to get her free!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dropping low-key hints to future characters in this chapter (That's one of the many characters I have figured out so far) and past events.
> 
> Also, in this Michael is gay if you haven't figured that out. Although... that was made canon recently with the revival... so... I have to thank that cast.


	4. Counterattacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael continues his investigation to prove Eliza's innocence and find Angelica's killer. He wishes he hadn't uncovered dead secrets when his research takes a dark turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I didn't want Michael to bounce all over the place like the game has Phoenix do, I've been taking some influence from the anime version of Ace Attorney (surprisingly, that's what got me into the fandom in the first place...)

******September 7, 2016**

**3:11 PM**

**Detention Center**

**Visitor's Room**

 

Michael gathered together everything that he had pulled out of the witnesses during the trial. Maybe they would have come in handy during his investigation. He couldn’t rest until Angelica’s killer was behind bars and Eliza was free of the electric chair, even if that meant going down to the detention center to interrogate one of those witnesses.

It was needless to say that after the performance he gave in court, Anita Rivera was not happy to see Michael had come to visit her.

“Hello! I didn’t expect anyone to visit me in such a gross place like this. It’s really quite moving,” Anita said as she took the seat across from Michael. The attorney was glad that there was a thick piece of glass dividing them. She was surprisingly upbeat for someone who had just been arrested. “Not.” Well, there was the true Anita. “You goddamn lawyer! Have you come to laugh? Yes, laugh at the fallen Anita Rivera!”

“Um… no. Not really,” said Michael. He didn’t see anything funny about someone behind behind bars. “There’s something I wanted to ask you.”

“There is nothing I want to be asked. Haven’t you done enough questioning already you… you… bastard!” Michael glanced over a the man standing at the door. He was trembling.

_ Here we go again… _

“Please,” Michael sighed. “You’re scaring the security guard.” Anita leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms defiantly over her chest.

“So. What is it you want to ask me?”

_ For starters, how did you get to be so totally whacked!? _

Michael cleared his throat.

“About the man who stayed with you in your room that night…” Anita was silent as Michael began. “Can you tell me about him? Where is he?” She stayed quiet. “Come on. Please?”

“No way, José.”

_ Hmm... maybe if I had something to get her to talk… _

“Why did you wiretap Angelica’s phone?”

“When you say it like that it sounds so cold.”

“Well, tapping people’s phones is a crime.”

“And I suppose you learned that in law school, hmm?” Michael groaned, dragging his fingers down his face. Anita was not looking him in the eye. She was being incredibly uncooperative.

_ This woman is impossible to talk to… _

“Why are you so angry?” Michael asked her. Though, she was in jail. That might have been a suitable reason. “I mean, you don't look like a bad person—” Anita slammed her hands on the table. Michael flinched.

“That does it!” she yelled. “Bottom-feeding, scum-sucking lawyer!” Well, Michael could have been called worse; both as a lawyer and as a person.

_ I can't tell, does she have a thing against lawyers or just against me? _

* * *

 

**September 7, 2016**

**3:47 P.M.**

**Hamilton Law Offices**

 

Michael gave up on talking to Anita. It felt like a waste of time. He had planned on driving back to Schuyler & Co. to prepare his defense for tomorrow. He didn’t know exactly what lead to him visiting the Hamilton Law Offices that day.

The secretary let Michael up to his employer's office fairly easily. Unlike with the hotel, Michael didn’t need to bribe him.

_ Huh. Looks like Mr. Hamilton is out today. Maybe he's avoiding me for some reason? He did kinda push me out in a hurry yesterday.  _

Michael took a cursory glance around the room. On the desk, a file had been left open. Papers were scattered over the desktop. Michael could see two turned over photos lying among them. Written on the backs of them were the words: "DL-6 Incident - Exhibit A," and "DL-6 Incident - Exhibit B". The case number jumped out at Michael.

_ DL-6. How could I forget? It was the entire buzz for months. Jeremy had such a hard time with it… Let's take a look at these, shall we? _

Michael picked up one of the pictures. He flipped it over. The image of a Puerto Rican man stared back at him. That was odd. Michael remembered watching the news surrounding this case. Not once did this man come up.

_ Why would Mr. Hamilton have a picture of this man...? This might be a valuable clue... I'll take it for now. I'm just borrowing it. I'll return it later. It's not stealing if I return it. _

Michael snuck the photo into his pocket before quickly taking his leave and getting back on track.

* * *

 

**September 7, 2016**

**4:18 P.M.**

**Gatewater Hotel**

**Hotel Lobby**

 

Before swinging by Schuyler & Co., Michael took a quick pit-stop across the street to the Gatewater Hotel. He wondered if there were any clues left in Anita’s hotel room. He was hoping for a sign or a hint that would lead him to discovering the identity of the other man. What he was greeted with, however, was the hotel bellboy.

“Quite the performance today,” said the bellboy as Michael spoke with him, “if I do say so myself.”

“Oh, thanks,” Michael replied. “Again, sorry for putting you on the spot like that.”

“No, no! Don't worry about that! Your efforts today can only help the Gatewater’s rep.” Michael stared at him.

“Huh?”

“Our reputation will only swell as the hotel where the murderer used a wiretap! We can charge a premium for the room, of course. It will be great for business!” Michael could hardly believe what he was hearing.

“Whoa! Miss Rivera wasn't charged with murder!”

“I, too, will become famous!” The bellboy wasn't listening. “The bellboy who brought the murderer ice coffee!”

_ Why do I feel like we're both stuck in the same bad dream… _

“So! You are out honored guest while you're here,” the bellboy continued. “Please let me know if there's anything I can do for you.”

“Well…” Michael said. He did need more information. “About Miss Rivera—”

“Oh her? Not to boast but I knew the moment I saw her, ‘she'd do it!’ I said!”

_ Do what!? I'm starting to think the most suspicious person here is this guy! _

“I actually wanted to ask you about the man who was with Miss Rivera,” said Michael, finally finishing his sentence.

“Ah, yes. He struck me as a real ‘Lady Killer,’ if you'll pardon the expression,” replied the bellboy. “I knew it from the moment I saw him. He and I are of the same ilk. We both carry the scent of danger.”

_ There we are in total agreement, Mr. Psycho Bellboy. _

“If you had a photo of that man, I could identify him in a heartbeat.”

_ A photo. Hmm… Oh! Wait! I do have a picture on me. Hmm… it's worth a shot. _

Michael pulled the photo he had taken from Hamilton Law Offices. He handed it over to the bellboy.

“Is this him?” he asked. The bellboy paused, staring at the photo. After a few seconds, he nodded.

“That's him, detective,” the bellboy replied before giving the photograph back to Michael.

“Um… I'm the lawyer…” Michael stowed the picture away.

“I know that. I just wanted to say ‘detective’ once. You know how it is.”

_ No. No, I don't. But I am surprised that worked on the first try. _

“Without a doubt, that is the man who checked in with Miss Rivera,” the bellboy went on, “How about I write an affidavit swearing that's him?”

“An affidavit?” That statement really could help though... “Sure. Why not?” The bellboy lit up as he rushed over to the front desk.

_ This guy is way too excited about this… _

As soon as Michael got the affidavit from the bellboy, he knew exactly what he had to do. Looks like his visit to Schuyler & Co. would have to wait. He had to get back to the detention center.

_ Not even Miss Rivera can play dumb to this! _

* * *

**September 7, 2016**

**4:39 P.M.**

**Detention Center**

**Visitor's Room**

 

Anita Rivera was still not pleased to see Michael when he arrived at the visitor's room.

“Can't you take a hint and stay gone?” she hissed.

“Hey, the only reason I'm back here is because you won't talk to me,” Michael fired back.

“Oh, so it's my fault now?” She was acting like she wasn't guilty of anything. The wiretap begged to differ.

“Just…” Michael let out an annoyed sigh. “Nevermind. About the man who was with you in your hotel room. Can you tell me about him now? Like where he is?”

“I'm not telling!” Michael muttered something under his breath. Like before, he was getting nowhere.

“Look, he's being accused of murder. Why are you protecting him?”

“Would you have sold someone you care deeply about to the cops? Like the late Ms. Schuyler?”

“No.” Michael didn't even need to think about the answer to that question. He already knew what to say before he said it. 

“See? That's why.”

_ Damn! Hmm... maybe if I had something to get her to talk…  _ The photo popped into Michael’s head. _ Hmm… It’s a long shot but maybe… Hey, if it worked for the bellboy. _

Michael took the photo out of his pocket. He held it up to Anita. He didn't quite trust her with it just yet.

“Have a look at this,” he said.

“Look, I've already told you several times, I'm not telling y—!” Anita froze when she saw the picture. Her eyes went wide. “Where did you—?”

_ Ah ha! A reaction! _

“This is him, isn't it?” Michael asked. Anita muttered several things. None of them were coherent, but Michael knew what they meant. “It is him. This is the man who stayed in your hotel room on the night of the murder!”

“No!” Anita said. She was too quick in her answer. “No, that's not right!”

_ Nice try, Miss Uncooperative. _

“D-Do you have proof that it was him?” the woman stuttered.

_ I'm so close! Just one more push. And lucky for you, Miss Rivera, I do. _

Michael pulled out the other thing he had on him in exchange for the picture.

“What's that?” Anita asked. She wasn't very good at hiding the fear in her voice.

“The bellboy wrote me an affidavit,” Michael explained. “He told us everything he saw today at the trial. He told us about the man you checked in with. He told us who he was.” Anita clenched her jaw, digging her nails into the table in front of her.

_ Now I'm getting somewhere! This is it, all or nothing! Time to do a little bluff. _

“No use playing dumb!”

_ If, indeed, that's an act. I'm willing to bet it is. _

“If you don't talk, I might just have to take that photo to the press,” Michael continued.

“What?!” If Michael didn't know any better, he could have sworn Anita sounded scared.

“Even though he should be a witness to murder, this man is in hiding. I'm sure that the press will have the time of their lives with his reputation.” That did it.

“Fine!” said Anita. “I'll talk. You…” She sighed. “You win. Don't go to the press. Please.” 

_ Yes! Man, that felt good! It's great to be alive! _

“Why are you pumping your fists in the air?” Michael stared at her. He hadn't even realized his arms were up until she had told him. Michael pretended to cough to cover up the celebratory action.

“Now can you tell me about the man you were with?” Michael said, his face pink.

“That man…” Anita sighed. “He's my boyfriend. Bernardo Mercado. He's the president of the information gathering conglomerate, Shark Corp.”

_ Bernardo... Mercado? Wait, does this mean you were flirting with me while in an open relationship…? _

“Um… what do you mean by ‘information gathering’?” Michael asked.

“Well…” Anita said, leaning back in her chair. She was much calmer than she had been when Michael first walked into the room. “I suppose you could call them a detective agency in a way.” There was no way a detective agency would tap a person’s phone.

“So… this man was with you on the night of the murder?” Anita opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She sunk back into her seat. “Miss Rivera?”

“I'm… I'm scared to talk.” Oh. So she actually was afraid. “I don't want to end up like her!” Her voice cracked near the end. Michael didn't have to ask who Anita was referring to.

“It's okay. You don't have to tell me.” She was quiet. Anita looked a little relieved. “I'll ask him myself. I promise I won't tell him who told me anything. I just need to know where Shark Corp is.” Anita was still silent. She shook her head.

_ She must be really scared of the guy if she won't talk. _

“Alright. I'll find that out myself.”

“Files.”

“Excuse me?” Michael had been ready to leave when Anita spoke again.

“The files in Schuyler & Co. Ms. Schuyler had dirt on Bernardo. She would have the address written down.” His life just got a little bit easier.

“Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Rivera.” Michael left the detention center jumping for joy.

_ Still. Mr. Bernardo Mercado, at last! Finally, a lead on this guy! If Anita Rivera couldn't have done it, that leaves him! Time to take action! _

* * *

 

**September 7, 2016**

**5:28 P.M.**

**Schuyler & Co. Law Offices**

 

Michael drove over to Schuyler & Co. The investigation teams were long gone and any signs of there being a crime in the building practically vanished.

It was hard to imagine that there was a dead body in the corner two days ago.

Michael tried to ignore that fact. He still wasn't full able to cope with the thought that his mentor was dead.

He dived into the boxes of files Angelica had stored away. The address for Shark Corp had to be in there somewhere. After all, Angelica always saved the files from cases she had been on. Michael never understood why.

Michael pulled out a random file sometime during his search. The S label was taped to the top. The files was out of place, something which Michael found strange.

He skimmed through it on a whim. News articles and reports about suicides were tucked away in the file. They were all policemen and politicians. Michael recognized a few names from the law world among the reports, too. On these reports were scribbles done in Angelica’s handwriting. All of them had one link. The word “Mercado” was repeated in each line.

_ Wait, I get it! Angelica thought he was involved in these "suicides"! Mercado drove them all to... ... I can use these newspaper clippings. Hmm... let's find the most disturbing one…  _

Michael pulled out one of the articles and stowed it in his pocket. He tucked away the S file back into its proper place before continuing. It didn't take him long to reach M.

_ "K"... "L"... Ah ha, "M"! "Mercado"! ... ! The entire "M" section is missing! Was it taken... _ ?

Someone cleared their throat behind him.

_ Ah, that old familiar clearing of the throat… _

Michael turned around. Standing in the doorway of the office was Alexander Hamilton.

“Um. Hello, Mr. Hamilton,” Michael wasn't expecting to see his face today. “Can I help you?”

“Well,” Hamilton began. “You were quite the thing today.” Michael only grew more confused.

“Excuse me?”

“The trial! I'm talking about the trial!” Michael stared at him. That didn't help alleviate his confusion.

_ He was there...? _

“You reminded me of myself when I was your age.”

_ You don't look that much older than I am. Just how old are you? _

“And…” Hamilton continued. “I'm here to apologize.” Michael’s confusion dwindled. He didn't need to put two and two together to figure out what Hamilton was here to talk about. “I... It was all a bit too much for me, my boy. Seeing you today, I... well, I…” That's not what Michael had been expecting.

_ I appreciate the reminiscing, but I'd much rather you gave me some information! _

“So, you came to see the trial?” Michael asked. He hadn't expected Hamilton to set foot near that courtroom.

“Yes. Yes I did,” Hamilton replied. “I had a moment of freedom… No. No, that's not it.” Michael just stared. “Something was bothering me last night. I couldn't get a single second of sleep. I realized why watching that trial. I'm sorry, but I lied to you.”

“Really?” Michael closed up the box of files. He was stiff in his movements. He hadn't expected it to be a lie. “Why?” 

“Well, you see, it's just… Eliza.” Michael picked up the box and walled over to the nearby shelves. “I owe you my thanks. I don't know what I would have done if things had gone poorly for her.” Michael was paused for a second as he replace the box on the shelf where he found it.

_ If you were that worried about it, why didn't you offer to defend her!? _

“I asked before but…” Michael said as he turned to face Hamilton. “Why did you refuse her request for you to defend her? I think, as her lawyer, I have a right to know.”

“A right, Mr. Mell?” Hamilton repeated. Michael nodded. The veteran before him hesitated before speaking. “No. No, I'm sorry. It's just… I need more time to think about it.” Michael leaned up against the wall, looking at Hamilton with the same look he gave all the witnesses on the stand.

_ He does seem troubled about something… Maybe I can find something that will inspire him to talk. Well, time to try to magic picture again. _

Michael walked over to him, retrieving the picture from his pocket.

“About this photograph…” Michael took note about how wide Hamilton’s eyes got at the sight of the man in the photo.

“Where did you get that?!” Hamilton exclaimed. “Give that back at once!” Michael handed it back over before the man could snatch it away.

“I may have taken it without your permission. Sorry,” Michael said as Hamilton stowed the photograph away in his jacket. “But I have to know. Who is that man? He was in Anita Rivera’s room the night of the murder.” Hamilton turned as pale as a ghost. He grabbed Michael’s arms. His grip was tight enough to make Michael think his life depended on it.

“What's that you say?! A-And you're sure about this?!” Michael didn't understand what caused Hamilton’s sudden panic. “This could be groundbreaking in Eliza’s case!”

_ What has him so flustered? _

“Yes. Both the bellboy and Miss Rivera herself confirmed it for me earlier.”

_ I need to pry more information out of him. Wait, did he just call my client ‘Eliza’...? Come to think of it, he did that yesterday, too. _

“Um… Mr. Hamilton, I think you should sit down,” Michael said as he removed Hamilton from his shirt. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.” Hamilton sat down in a nearby chair that once been paired with to Angelica’s desk.

“You keep referring to my client as Eliza. She told me that only people close to her call her that. Do you… Do you know Elizabeth personally?”

“That's because I'm—” Hamilton cut himself off before he could give an answer. “I mean we’re not… I don't... Don't be ridiculous!”

“Mr. Hamilton, she called you by your first name when I spoke with her yesterday,” Michael recalled. “Exactly how does she know you?” Hamilton was fidgeting in that seat, messing with the band around his finger. Michael knew those signs. He had seen it on the stands enough to know. Hell, he even exhibited some of those traits. Hamilton was on the point of breaking.

“Enough,” said Hamilton after a while. “I’ll swallow my pride and tell you all.” He didn't look up at Michael, but kept his eyes on the ring he wore. “I'm engaged.”

“En-Engaged?” Michael stuttered. That's not how he expected Hamilton’s confession to start. “But what does that have to do with—?”

“You asked about my relationship with Eliza, didn't you?”

“Yeah, but I don’t really see—” Michael caught sight of the ring Hamilton was wearing. Now that he thought about it, Eliza was also wearing a similar looking band. Each time they spoke about the other, Eliza and Hamilton would always touch the rings in some way. The final piece fell into place. “Wait. Are you…?”

“I’m her fiancé, yes. I would have defended her myself but…” Hamilton bit down on his lip.

“But what?” The older man sighed.

“Bernardo Mercado is a man who makes his living through intimidation. Shark Corp is a company that excels in finding people’s weaknesses. Their weaknesses and their secrets that they keep hidden and out of public eye.” Shock hit Michael.

_ What!? _

“This is all because of the DL-6 Incident. You do know what that is, right?” Michael nodded as Hamilton continued. “Smart boy. I had been investigating it with Angelica. We used to work at the same firm together before she left to create her own. That’s when Mercado found out some things about me. I’ve been paying him ever since to keep it hidden. As much as it pained me, I could not stand in Eliza’s defense because of this. Mercado would have destroyed my reputation and my relationship with her if I did.”

_ So that's the connection! _

“It’s hard for me to tell you this, but arresting Bernardo Mercado will be impossible,” Hamilton concluded.

“Impossible?” questioned Michael. “Why?” Everyone had their weakness. Michael just had to connect him to the crime somehow.

“He has information on everyone. It gives him an iron grip! He owns judges, attorneys, prosecutors, police, politicians, you name it. They are bound, unable to do harm to themselves, and therefore, to him.” Michael glared at Hamilton. He was being heavily pessimistic. “Don’t look at me like that. What you see is nothing more than the weight of many years.” There was one thing that Michael didn’t understand.

“Why are you being blackmailed over this, Mr. Hamilton?” he asked.

“The DL-6 Incident was top secret. Very little information was leaked to the public about it. The police didn’t want people to know that they were using a spirit medium.” Michael stood stiff.

“Wait, that was  _ this _ case? The one that ruined Angelica’s father?” Hamilton slowly nodded.

“Yes. How did you know?”

“Elizabeth told me.”

“As I was saying," Hamilton continued, "they couldn’t let people know that they were using a medium. But one person found out and told Mercado.”

“Someone told Mercado?” Michael repeated. Hamilton gave him a short nod as a reply.

“Because someone talked, the police were mocked far and wide. In secret, they began looking for the one who sold them out. I was helping Angelica and… he wanted me out of the picture.”

“I see.” There was a heavy silence in the air as Michael took in all the information Hamilton had given him. He knew what he needed to do. Michael snatched up his jacket from off Angelica’s desk. “Do you know the address to Shark Corp? I have to talk to Mercado myself.” Hamilton stood up so quickly he almost knocked over the chair he was sitting in. 

“Mercado controls the law of the country as he sees fit,” he said as Michael pulled his jacket on. “If you would still challenge him…”

If Mercado had the M file in from Angelica’s case files, then he most likely knew what Michael wanted to hide. He would try to use it against him. Michael didn’t care. It wasn’t like that blip of information wouldn’t be found out if someone did their research. A life was on the line.

“That’s just a risk I’ll have to take.” 

Hamilton sighed before giving Michael the address to Shark Corp. Michael left without another word. His sense of determination was left hanging in the room.

* * *

**September 7, 2016**

**6:37 P.M.**

**Shark Corp Inc.**

**CEO's Office**

 

Michael ignored the receptionist and several employees as they tried to usher him away. Eventually, he was left alone. Michael was a man on a mission. He didn’t imagine walking into the strangest looking office possible being on his mission plan.

_ What's with the surreal decor…? _

“Who are you?” The sudden surprise voice directly behind him made Michael jump. He whirled around. The man behind him carried a sense of intimidation. Other than that, he matched perfectly with the photograph of Bernardo Mercado.

“I won’t ask again,” said the man. “Who are you?”

“Er… Michael. Michael Mell,” Michael responded. The man walked past Michael, slightly pushing him out of the way in the process. “You're the head of Shark Corp, right? Bernardo Mercado?” The man smirked.

“My reputation precedes me.”

_ More than you think… _

“Let me guess,” continued Mercado. “You’re a rookie attorney fresh out of law school?” Michael nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. He was still stuck on the room’s interior, glancing around at it. “I’m actually working on a case right now.”

“Ah yes. My Anita told me.” Mercado leaned up against his desk. “What is it you’re doing here?” Michael picked his fallen courage off of the floor.

“About Miss Rivera… she’s your girlfriend, right?”

“My girlfriend and my secretary. It was a shock to hear what she did.” It didn’t sound like it was much of shock to him. Mercado said it so casually.

“You mean the wiretap?”

“Of course. Though information gathering is what this company does, I can assure you that I don’t condone such methods.” If what Hamilton said was correct, Michael had doubt that statement was true.

“Miss Rivera said that someone had told her to wiretap Angelica’s phone.” Mercado didn’t seem fazed. “Anyway, the day she witnessed the murder, you checked in with her at the Gatewater Hotel, right?”

“I don’t pay attention to mundane details such as time and place.” The murder only happened two days ago. Michael found it hard to believe someone would forget where they were in that short amount of time.

“The hotel bellboy remembered you clearly.” Mercado dug his nails into the hardwood of his desk.

“Well, aren’t you persistent?”

“Sorry, but there is something else I have to ask you,” said Michael. He was growing wary of Mercado's mounting frustration.

“Mr. Lawyer, I really hate having to repeat myself,” said the CEO. “It seems like the message has not penetrated your thick skull. If you try my patience further, I fear a nasty accident my occur. Do I make myself clear?”

_ Transparent…  _ Michael stuck his hand into his pocket. He was greeted by the sound of crinkling paper. The article he had found. If Mercado was really involved with this then maybe that might just be the thing to get him to crack.  _ This is the only clue that Angelica left me... I'd better make this one count! _

“Mr. Mercado…” Michael said as he pulled out the article. He held it out for Mercado’s viewing. “This is an article describing the suicide of a politician.” Mercado didn’t respond to that. Michael put away the article. “He was embezzling secret government funds. Then one day, word about it got leaked to the press. The very next day, he killed himself.”

“And this concerns me how…?” Mercado asked. Michael knew he had a hand in Angelica’s death. He knew that he had to be the killer. he was hiding his gruesome involvement fairly well.

“I found this article in Angelica's office.”

“Angelica…?”

“Angelica Schuyler!” Mercado’s uncooperative attitude was frustrating Michael. “She had a file filled with articles like this. Every one of them was labeled with a single word. Your name. ‘Mercado’.” Shark Corp’s CEO grew visibly tense. Michael was starting to break him. “Mr. Mercado, I know what you did to that politician. You were blackmailing him.”

“Blackmail?”

“You weren’t just blackmailing him either. You are threatening and exploiting hundreds of others! You were involved with all of the suicides Angelica investigated! This company is built on blackmail.” Michael was quiet as he regained the composure he had lost while yelling at Mercado. “I’m right. Aren’t I?”

“What a bizarre accusation, Mr. Bell. What is it you should be doing now? Investigating me? I think not. You should be searching for the person who killed Ms. Schuyler.” Mercado walked further away from Michael. He picked up the phone on his desk, pressing a single number. “Yes, Mr. Bell will be leaving now,” he said to the other person on the opposite end. 

“Wait a second, Mr. Mercado. You’re absolutely right.” The CEO glanced back at Michael, covering one end of the phone with his hand. “I should be looking for the killer now. Actually, I’ve done one better. I’ve found him. And he’s right in front of me.” Mercado lowered the phone. He stared at Michael. Most innocent people would have a look of bewilderment on their faces. Mercado had just a blank stare. 

“What are you implying?”

“Angelica was on to you. She was keeping tabs. It was because of this you ordered Anita Rivera to tap her phone. Then, Angelica was murdered. I went through her files. Every single document on you has mysteriously disappeared. If the police had them, I would have been told. This means the one who took them would be the one who killed her. No one else has any use for them.” Mercado didn’t speak. “Even a child could work it out, Mr. Mercado. You did it! You killed Angelica Schuyler to keep her quiet!” Mercado didn’t say a word. He raised the phone back to his ear.

“We won’t be needing an escort for Mr. Bell,” he said the other person over the line. “Instead, please connect me to the prosecutor’s office.” Michael stared at Mercado curiously. He hadn’t reacted to Michael accusing him of murder. Just what did he want with the prosecutor's office…?

“Hello, Chief Prosecutor?” said Mercado. Michael continued to stare. “I‘ve changed my mind. I want testify tomorrow. … The Angelica Schuyler case. I witnessed the murder. And thus, as an important witness, I would like to testify.” Mercado’s face contorted to anger. “Silence!” He breathed out, keeping a professional attitude. “I told you I change my mind, didn’t I? Oh, and one other thing. Send the police over here right away. The man is standing right in front of me.” Michael blinked. What was he doing? “He looks dazed, but he could be violent. … Are you listening? The executioner. The hatchet-man. The liquidator! Ms. Schuyler’s killer!” Michael’s eyes went wide. That’s what he was doing.

“W-What?!” Michael said. He could hear his heart beating loudly.

“Chief Prosecutor. I do not believe you are in a position to freely offer you opinions to me, correct? I’m telling you to send the police now!” Mercado hung up the phone. Michael could hear sirens. The closest police officer wasn’t that far away. He had no words. Everything was hitched into his throat. His hands were shaking.

“Did I not tell you, Mr. Bell?” said Mercado as he crossed out from behind his desk. “You are a mere lawyer, just as Miss Schuyler was.” Michael’s chest began to tighten.

“H-How dare you,” he forced out.

“I’ll point the finger at you. You will be tried as Ms. Schuyler’s killer! This case is as good as settled.” Michael’s heart was beating louder and louder. He knew what was going on. He knew the sensation all too well. “No lawyer of any worth will defend you. I have friends in the local lawyers association, you see. You’ll be given a lawyer so stupendously inept that they will even make you look competent.”

_ I... I feel faint. I can't breathe. I can't breathe! _

The door behind Michael burst open. Of all people on the police force, it just had to be Detective Fiyero Tiggular who had answered the call to come to the office. He was just as shocked as Michael was to see him there.

“What’s going on here?” said Tiggular.

“Detective Tiggular,” said Mercado, faking a friendly attitude. “I present to you, the man who killed Miss Angelica Schuyler!” The world around Michael began spinning. His breathing was coming out heavier and quicker.

“Wh-What?!”

“Take this despicable human being into custody.” Michael felt the cold metal of handcuffs forced on him. Detective Tiggular had to pull the panicking man out of the office. Michael’s world had spun around in a loop. He had been rooted to the floor. He couldn’t breathe.

This day went from a hundred to zero in the blink of an eye.

* * *

**September 8, 2016**

**3:37 PM**

**Detention Center**

**Visitor's Room**

 

Michael didn’t remember much about the night before. He remembered being arrested and everything up until then. As soon as panic settled in, that’s where his memories started to blur. There were faint bits and pieces of interrogation and questioning. It had been the same the next morning. By afternoon, Michael was spent. He hadn’t expected someone to come and visit him while he was down in detention.

_ I can't believe it's only been a day since the first trial. My trial begins tomorrow. Mercado's going to set a trap for me. And the prosecution will be in on it, of course. An attorney was assigned to me by the state, yesterday. I refused. I have an idea. _

“... Mell! Mr. Mell!” Michael snapped out of his thoughts at the voice. He looked up from his spot behind the glass. He was greeted with familiar dark hair, teal robes and warm smile.

“Oh, Elizabeth!” Michael said, sounding a little surprised. “They let you out of detention.”

“Yeah. Just now, actually.” Geez, how long did it take to process all that paperwork? “It’s all thanks to you.” Michael weakly laughed.

“I’m afraid we’ve traded places.”

“What do you mean?”

Michael quickly explained what happened to Eliza since they last saw each other. He didn't spare her a single detail in weaving his story. By the time he was finished, Eliza was furious.

“I don’t believe it! How many people does that man need to destroy before he’s satisfied?!” she exclaimed. “First my father, then my sister, and now you! This has gone too far. Mr. Mell, if there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”

“Well…” Michael wasn’t really sue that there's anything Eliza could do to help him. “You can cheer for me in court.”

“Cheer for you? Like a cheerleader?”

“Um… something like that.”

“Alright. Leave it to me!” Michael stared at her. Her sudden resolve was a bit startling. “I’d better go get a uniform and some pom-poms.”

“W-Wait!” said Michael before Eliza could get up. “Wait, wait, wait.” 

“What?” Eliza said with a slight laugh. “I was just kidding.” Michael joined in on her laughter. Even if it was weak, it felt good.

“Either way, thanks. It’s good to know someone is on my side.”

_ And there really isn't anything you can do for me anyway that’s legal… _

“But…” said Eliza, biting down on her lip. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing. I’ve got to give that man a piece of my mind!”

_ Just a piece? _

“Okay,” said Michael. “You can come to court tomorrow. He’s going to be testifying as a witness.” Eliza nodded.

“Okay! Then I’ll be there! I’ll show him a thing or two!” she said. Michael saw her determination before. He had seen it in Angelica. Maybe they were sisters after all. 

Maybe it would be better to have someone on the stands with him this time.

“Oh, and can you do me a little favor?”

“Huh? A favor?” 

* * *

 

_ With crime it's the same old story. In fact, it's gotten worse. Lengthy court proceedings are no longer realistic. Beginning a few years ago, a limit of three days was put on initial court trials. Almost all finish in a day. Most with a guilty verdict. I never thought I would end up in the defendant's chair again. Tomorrow the true culprit will appear as a witness. This is it! It's me or him! Prepare to tango, Mercado. I'm coming for you with everything I got! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to keep some canon from the musicals in for the AU. So, Eliza and Alexander are engaged for now. It was a bit hard to write the fact that he couldn't defend her. It was heartbreaking. Oh well. I'm pretty sure he'll come clean to her at a later date.
> 
> This also means that I'll be using Alex more often in the plot, so... that's a thing.
> 
> He's also not the only character I'll be adding in that keeps with the musical canon. Although... that character won't show up until my favorite case of the game.
> 
> This also won't be the last time Michael is sticky-fingered.


	5. The State v. Michael Mell 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael is put on the stand in Eliza's place. With his crackpot scheme, he must now not only save Eliza, but save himself from that GUILTY verdict. His job would be a whole lot easier if the witness wasn't working with the prosecutor against him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is an Easter egg included somewhere in the chapter. Bonus points to whoever can find it. It's in pretty plain sight.
> 
> In other news, as the time this is posted, the fic is almost at 100 views and I'm insanely happy about that.

**September 9, 2016**

**9:52 AM** ****  
**District Court** ****  
**Defendant Lobby No. 1**   
  


Michael was tapping his foot on the ground. The case files he had Eliza bring to the courthouse were scattered out in front of him. The pair of headphones he also had Eliza bring were glued to his ears. Eliza sat on the arm of the sofa that Michael was sitting on. She was in wonderment over how calm Michael was being.

“Miss Schuyler.” Eliza yelped. She slid off of the couch. Standing in the doorway to the defendant's lobby was Prosecutor Jeremy Heere. Unlike how he was on the bench, Jeremy seemed a bit more unsure in his expression.

“I never got the chance to say this yesterday,” continued Jeremy, “I am sorry about what happened to your sister.” Eliza stared at him. Yesterday, he was just trying to get her convicted. Now he was offering his condolences?

“You… what?” she said, still in bewilderment. Jeremy clutched at the sleeve of his jacket. He wouldn’t look Eliza in the eye.

“She was a good lawyer… and a good person. She put everyone’s feelings above her own. It may sound selfish, but I’m grateful for that. It’s horrible to hear that she was….” Even he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“Th-Thank you.” Jeremy took his eyes off of the floor. He glanced past Eliza. He fixated himself upon Michael.

“Mell. Mell.” Michael ignored him. “Michael.” He still didn’t look up from the files. Jeremy turned to Eliza. “What is he doing?” Eliza followed Jeremy’s line of vision.

“Listening to… something. He wouldn’t tell me what,” Eliza explained. “He had me bring those headphones with me when I brought the case files. He says that it helps him concentrate before a case. Which is strange considering there’s only one other case he’s been on.”

“Okay.” Jeremy didn't seemed fazed by this. He walked forward before waving a hand in front of Michael. “Michael.” It didn’t work. He snapped his fingers in front of him. It still didn’t work. Seeing Jeremy’s failed attempts at getting Michael's attention, Eliza decided to give it a try. She leaned over and tapped Michael on the shoulder. Michael glanced up at her and Jeremy. He slid the headphones off of his ears, letting them rest around his neck. His eyes were focused on Jeremy.

“What?” was the only thing Michael said.

“I received a call from the public prosecutor’s office yesterday evening,” said Jeremy. Michael let his cold demeanor slip. “I was told that whatever Mr. Mercado says today, it will be the ‘absolute truth’. No matter how you attack his testimony… If I raise an objection, the judge will listen to me.”

_ What, does Mercado have the judge in his pocket, too!? _

“So… you’re saying that I’m going to be found guilty,” said Michael. The logic was obvious. “End of story?” Jeremy didn’t meet Michael’s piercing stare.

“... I have to do anything to get my verdict, Mr. Mell. Anything.” It wasn’t Michael who reacted openly to that statement.

“Why? Why?!” said Eliza. Her tone of voice reminded Michael of when his mother was angry at him. “How can you torment an innocent person like this?!”

“Innocent?” Jeremy repeated. Eliza nodded. Michael felt like she was going to pounce on him. “How can we know that?” Wait, what? “The guilty always lie to avoid being found out. There's no way to tell who is guilty and who is innocent. All that I can hope is to get every defendant declared guilty.” Michael swept the papers before him back into the case file. “That’s my policy.” Michael picked up the file, standing up from the sofa. 

“Jeremy…” said Michael. He kept his eyes on the file. “You’ve changed.” The undignified sound from Jeremy was enough to tell Michael about his reaction.

“Michael?” said Eliza.

“D-Don’t expect any special treatment from me, Michael Mell.” And with that note, Jeremy left without another word.

“Michael…?” Eliza said again. Michael gathered up his resolve. He couldn’t let anything cloud his mind.

“Well, court will be opening for session soon,” said Michael. He ignored Eliza’s question.

“What? But your attorney isn’t even here yet!” There were only two attorneys Michael trusted to defend him, and the other one was dead.

“Oh, we won’t have to wait.” Eliza stared at him. “I’ll be defending myself.”

“What?!” Not quite what Michael was expecting. He let out a breath to calm himself. 

“Okay, Elizabeth. Let’s do this.” Michael left the defendant’s lobby, Eliza following after. She was still objecting to Michael’s decision.

* * *

 

**September 9, 2016**

**10:00 AM**

**District Court**

**Courtroom No. 1**

 

Michael never thought he would be  in the defendant's position again. He definitely didn’t think he would be defending himself this time, nor would he be up against Jeremy Heere. This case was just full of surprises.

“The court is now in session for the trial of Mr. Michael Mell.”

“The prosecution is ready, Your Honor,” said Jeremy with another flourish of his arms. Did he always open like that?

“The defense is ready, your Honor,” Michael said.

“Mr. Mell…” said the Judge. He sounded unsure as Eliza did in the defendant’s lobby. “Are you sure you’re up to doing this?” Michael responded with an nod.

“Yes, Your Honor. I will be defending myself.” There was a low squeal from the prosecution. “There are no rules against it.”

“Understood. Very well. Mr. Heere, your opening statement please.” Jeremy cleared her throat.

“As the details of the event are already quite clear to the court,” he began, “today we will hear the testimony of another witness to the defendant’s crime.”

“I see. The prosecution may call its witness.”

_ That went far too smoothly! Why didn't the judge ask Jeremy why his witness didn't testify before!? It's like… it's like he already knows why! Hmm. If anyone's going to raise an objection about this, I suppose it's me… _

“Wait a minute!” Michael called out, drawing the court’s attention. “Mr. Heere, I think you owe an explanation to the court. Why didn’t this witness testify earlier?!”

“I apologize,” said Jeremy. He was surprisingly calm. “Mr. Mercado is a busy man. Besides, at the time, I thought that Ms. Rivera’s opinion alone was all that was needed. Again, I apologize.”

“Excellent Mr. Heere,” said the Judge. “I appreciate your demeanor.”

_ Great. He gets to show off, and I get nowhere. _

Michael gritted his teeth together as he watched Bernardo Mercado take the stand. This man was a killer, he knew it. All Michael had to do was prove it to the court.

“Please state your full name,” Jeremy asked Mercado.

“You wish to know my title?” replied Mercado. It was good to know that Mercado hadn’t lost his cocky attitude.

“Er… your name?”

“That’s what I just said.” Jeremy slammed a hand on the bench.

“Your name!” The witness introduced himself to the court. At least Jeremy managed to scare some sense into him somehow.

_ These two are great together… _

“Did you know the victim, Miss Angelica Schuyler?” Jeremy asked the witness.

“That would be a no,” Mercado replied. “I did not.”

“And you were at the Gatewater Hotel on the night of the murder?”

“Correct.”

“And you witnessed the murder from there?”

“Why tell you what you already know?” Mercado said with a clear of his throat.

“Very well, Mr. Mercado, You may begin you testimony,” said the Judge.

_ If I can't rip this guy's testimony apart, I'm done for. Why do I always feel like it's the end of the world and I'm the last man standing? _

“Let’s see, it was about 9:00. I was quietly reading some papers by the window,” testified Mercado. “Then I heard a crash coming from outside. I turned to look at the building across the street. That’s when I saw him: a messy-haired man attacking a woman with long hair! Needless to say that man was none other than that lawyer in the tacky red suit over there! I called Anita over at once. She, too, was shocked of course. The victim, she… she ran to the left, but you gave chase! Finally, there was that terrible impact. Then, it was all over. Do you see? My testimony is absolutely perfect.” The Judge gave Michael the chance for his cross-examination.

_ My suit is not tacky. And it’s not red! It’s more maroon if anything… wait.  _ Michael looked down at one piece of evidence he had received yesterday. He glanced over it. It seemed like Anita's testimony did come in handy after all.

“OBJECTION!” Michael shouted. “Mr. Mercado, you’ve dug your own grave. You said that the victim ran to the left. This directly contradicts Miss Rivera’s testimony. She told us that the victim ran right.” Mercado laughed at Michael’s point.

“It’s simple,” said Mercado. “You must have misheard her.” Michael shifted and pulled out another piece of evidence from his case file. He held up the floor plans of Angelica’s office to the witness. Before the trial began, Michael had marked where the killer was, along with where Angelica’s body had been found.

“Look at the floor plans.” Michael tapped the red K on the map, followed by the blue V. “There killer was here. The victim was found here. If she had run left, like you claim, she would have been running directly away from the door. She would have run towards a dead end. Don’t you think that’s odd?”

“Very strange.” Mercado was oddly calm. “I did her see run left. I swear it.”

“Michael…” whispered Eliza to the defense, “Look at his face. I don’t think he’s lying.”

“True,” Michael whispered back.

_ Maybe he really did see Angelica run left...? So he did witness the killing...? Of course he did. He was the one who killed her. If he’s not lying, then how did he witness her running to the left… Wait a second! _

“He’s telling the truth,” Michael said, announcing his conclusion. “But so is Miss Rivera.”

_ For once… _

“I doubt it,” Jeremy shot back at the defense, “Er… rather, it does not clear up any contradictions.”

“Actually…” Michael said. “There is one scenario that would explain their conflicting accounts. The witness didn’t view the crime from the hotel.”

“Mr. Mell!” yelled the Judge. “What do you mean?”

“Yes, what do you mean?” Jeremy asked. “If he was not in the hotel, where could he have been?!” The answer was already obvious.

“He was in the law offices of Schuyler & Co.,” Michael told them. “More specifically, he was standing here!” Michael held up the floor plans once again, tapping the K. “This is where he was, where the killer was standing. When the victim ran or the door… If he was watching from this point, to him it would appear that she ran left.”

“This is no time for jokes! That’s where the killer was standing!” Disorder erupted in the courtroom. The Judge called for order. Michael tucked away the floor plans back into his case file.

“Mr. Mell!” shouted the Judge as the sea of roars became a field of whispers. “What are you suggesting?” Before Michael could answer, the prosecution jumped to the witness’s defense.

“OBJECTION!” Jeremy yelled. “The principles of the dense are a distortion of the truth!”

“Indeed… they do seem a bit far-fetched…” This was not going well. To make things worse, Michael could hear Mercado laughing on the stand.

_ What now!? He's… He's laughing!? What the hell?! _

“The hilarity of the moment made me remember something,” said Mercado, calming down his laughter. “It appears I have been unclear. Your Honor, might I be allowed to testify again?” The Judge gave the okay for Mercado to revise his testimony.

_ Good luck. You can't fix a broken testimony, buddy! _

“Both Anita’s testimony and mine are correct,” Mercado said, spouting out more lies. “When you assaulted the girl, she first ran left. Then you hit her! That’s what I saw. With the last of her strength, she ran to the right. You chased her and delivered the final blow. That would be what Anita saw. Don’t you remember? You hit her twice!” The hole in Mercado’s story was wide enough for Michael to reach in and to tear it even larger.

“Mr. Mercado! The victim died from a ‘single’  blow, yet you claim that the accused… er… that I hit her twice! What do you have to say to that?” Like his girlfriend, Mercado couldn’t make any sound that could be considered complete sentence, or even a word.

_ Now's my chance to hit him where it counts! _

“Mr. Mercado,” continued Michael, “Wasn’t it you who told this court that your testimony was ‘absolutely perfect’?” Mercado muttered something Michael couldn't hear. “Your Honor, if you could ask the witness for a new testimony—”

“OBJECTION!” Jeremy shouted. Michael faltered. Oh, hell. “This witness is obviously confused. Your Honor, I would like to request a ten minute break!”

“OBJECTION!” Michael yelled at the prosecution before the Judge could give his answer. “The witness is confused because he is lying! I request that there be no break!” The gallery seemed to be on Michael’s side. He could hear shouts from the people, calls for justice.

“Very well,” said the Judge. “If the witness would care to revise his testimony…”

_ The crowd's on my side! No slipping out of this now, Mercado! _

Mercado looked uncomfortable on the stand, shifting his weight constantly.

“Um… well, see—” stuttered the CEO, “I looked out the window when I heard that thing fall. It was a light stand, right? In the next moment, I saw Miss Schuyler run to the left. The killer, you, attacked her… but she dodged. … And then… she turned and ran to the door! Then you did her in with a single blow!”

“Hmmm… very well, Mr. Mell.” said the Judge. “You may begin your cross-examination.”

“You Honor, my stomach is hurting, you see. So, can we—”

“Deal with it,” said Michael, cold and condescending. “This is almost over.” Mercado glared daggers at the attorney. “Anyway Mr. Mercado, it’s impossible for you to have seen that light stand.”

“Wh-What?”

“That light stand happened to break when it fell.” Mercado looked like he was just punched in the stomach. “Just by seeing the pieces, you wouldn’t know it was a light stand just by looking at it. So, tell me. How did you know it was a stand?”

“I-Isn’t it obvious? I saw the stand before it fell over!”

“So… you saw the stand before the victim was attacked?”

“Of course. There's no problem there, right?” Mercado's own testimony told a different story. 

“There’s a big problem here.” Mercado was starting to look worried. “Let me make sure that I have this straight. You saw the glass light stand through the window form the hotel before the incident occurred. Am I correct?”

“Correct!” Mercado said with a nod. “It’s conclusive, definitive, undeniable... completely trustworthy!” Michael caught Mercado in his own lie.

“Mr. Mercado. It’s impossible you could have seen the stand before it had been broken given what you’ve told us.”

“Do you have proof…?” the Judge asked. Michael gave the Judge a confident nod.

“I sure do,” he said. “A person could not have seen the stand before it fell. Take a look at the floor plans again. If you were to look through the window at the office, the light stand would be out of your line of sight. Well, Mr. Mercado? What do you have to say?”

“Er…” said Mercado. He wasn’t looking towards the defense at all. “R-Ridiculous.” Michael slammed his hands down on the bench. This was type of the adrenaline he felt during Rich’s trial: right before he caught the murderer.

“Mr. Mercado, if you were the Gatewater Hotel as you claim you where, you could not have seen the stand before it fell over!” said Michael, building his case up more and more in his favor. “In fact, you wouldn’t have been able to see it after it fell, either. There's no way you could have recognized the broken shards as a glass light stand. So, when did you see the stand, Mr. Mercado? The answer is obvious. It was after it had fallen! The only place you could see that was the moment it fell! And the only place you could see that is if you were inside Schuyler & Co. Law Offices!” Michael smirked. “In other words, you were at the scene of the crime when the murder took place!”

All was quiet for a moment. Mercado had his fingers dug into his hair. He was shaking on the stand. Then, his piercing scream of frustration rang out through out the courtroom. Silence fell once more with all but Mercado’s heavy panting could be heard.

“Mr. Mercado?” Michel asked. The witness didn’t respond. “You did it. Didn’t you?”

“Your Honor,” said Mercado. That was it. Michael had broken him. “I… I… Miss Schuyler…”

_ Heh. Looks like we're about to get our verdict! _

“OBJECTION!” That one word made Michael’s heart stop. He looked over at Jeremy. “That’s far enough, Michael Mell.”

“What are you talking about?” asked the defense attorney.

_ Shit! I forgot about Jeremy!  _ Jeremy ignored Michael.

“Mr. Mercado,” said the prosecutor. “I think the time has come. Shouldn’t you confess your crime?” Michael was incredibly confused. Why was Jeremy suddenly siding with him? “Confess. It was you who placed the wiretap, right?” 

_ Oh, that’s why. _

“Mr. Heere,” said the Judge. “Explain to the court what you mean by this!”

“Distinguished members of the court, Mr. Mercado is slightly confused. Allow me to explain.”

_ I really don't like the way this is headed… _

“As you know, Mr. Mercado is the CEO of Shark Corp,” recounted Jeremy. “He ordered his secretary and girlfriend, Miss Anita Rivera, to tap the law offices of Schuyler and Co. The question is, Your Honor, when and who placed the wiretap?”

“You wouldn’t!” Michael said, expressing his thoughts out loud. If the rumors were right, Jeremy would.

“Mr. Mercado, in order to place the wiretap, you entered Ms. Schuyler’s office. Am I correct?” Mercado locked eyes with Jeremy. He pushed back his hair, regaining lost coolness.

“C-Correct!” said Mercado. “You are correct, Mr. Heere.” Michael planted his face into his hands. 

“You have got to be kidding me…” he muttered under his breath.

“Yes… in order to place the wiretap, I breached the Schuyler & Co. Law Offices! That is when I saw that accursed light stand!”

“Now I’m the one who’s confused,” said the Judge. “Mr. Heere, what does this mean?”

“It means that Mr. Michael Mell made his position quite clear,” explained Jeremy, not looking Michael in the eye. “He has determined that Mr. Mercado knew the glass stand was in the office. He has shown that there was only one time when Mr. Mercado could have seen the stand: the very moment of the murder. Thus, Mr. Mell would like you to believe the Mr. Mercado was a murderer.”

_ Jeremy, don’t do this to me. You know I wouldn't kill anyone. I’m not guilty! _

“However! It is a fact that Mr. Mercado had been to that office well before the murder took place! He went to place the wiretap! He could have seen the glass light stand then. Therefore, Mr. Michael Mell's theory is revealed for the baseless conjecture it is!” The Judge demanded that Mercado testified to the court about the wiretap. This was something the witness was glad to do. If Michael couldn’t find any contradictions, then he would be the one on Death Row.

_ I... I feel faint again. I might get sick this time. _

“It was the beginning of September, about a week before the murder,” Mercado said, spinning his tale anew. “I had entered the Schuyler & Co. Law Offices. Of course, I had done so to place the wiretap. That is when I saw this glass light stand.”

“So you saw the stand before the night of incident?” the Judge asked. Mercado nodded in fake confirmation. “And this is how you were able to identify what fell over? By sound?”

“Correct. That’s right.”

“I see. Very well, Mr. Mell, you may cross-examine.” Michael found himself frozen on the stand.

_ Gah! What am I supposed to do now...!? I can't testify that I put together that stand myself! No one would believe me without evidence. Dammit! I need to find a contradiction!  _ There  was only one thing to do. Michael had to get something to slip from Mercado’s mouth.

“D-Do you have proof of the date you visited Miss Schuyler?” Michael asked Mercado.

“OBJECTION!” Of course Jeremy had to intervene with Michael’s cross-examination. “Miss Rivera knew the details of the Schuyler sisters’ conversation. You proved this to the court yesterday. So, the tap had to be placed before then.”

“Right… Um… Was it really you who went into the office, Mr. Mercado? Or was it Miss Rivera?”

“OBJECTION!” 

_ Jeremy, why? _

“Unidentified fingerprints several days old were found in Schuyler & Co. Law Offices. They are obviously Mr. Mercado’s.”

_ And if I know Jeremy, he's already run a check on those prints… Shit! _

Michael had to get that one bit of contradictory testimony out of Mercado. There had to be something!

“Why did you tap Angelica’s phone?!” Michael asked Mercado. Once again, he was interrupted by Jeremy Heere.

“OBJECTION! That has no bearing on the current case!”

“Um… Uh…” Michael couldn’t concentrate. “Wh-Why would you notice something as harmless as the light stand?” For once, Jeremy did not cut in with his objections.

“The light stand was made out of glass. It was quite stylish, so I guess it made a lasting impression on me,” testified Mercado, “Such a beautiful thing deserves attention. That’s it.”

Michael gripped the bench. This couldn't be it. He couldn’t think of another question that would lure Mercado into a truth-seeking trap.

_ Shit! Don't tell me I've run out of ammo! _

“I’m afraid that’s as far as you go, Mr. Mell,” said Jeremy. “The time has come for you to admit defeat. You… You fought honorably.”

_ No more… I can't take this anymore… _

“Mr. Mell? asked the Judge. “Are you giving up?”

“Y-Yes, Your Honor.” Michael had no choice. There was nothing left he could do.

“Michael!” Michael paused. That voice… “Michael, over here!”

_ I know that voice.  _ Michael looked over at him. Where Eliza had once stood, a completely different woman had taken her place.

“Never give up, Michael!” Michael stared wide-eyed at the woman. He couldn’t believe it. 

“A-A-Angelica?!” His brain, like a piece of machinery, short-circuited. Michael’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he collapsed on the courtroom floor.

* * *

 

**September 9, 2016**

**12:57 P.M.**

**District Court**

**Defendant Lobby No. 1**

 

The world was spinning when Michael opened his eyes. His glasses had been left askew on his face. He slowly sat up, his head in his hand and the other hand fixing his glasses’ position. With a few blinks, the spin of the room had ceased. Michael was laying on the couch in the defendant’s lobby.

“What… happened…? Michael muttered. It all came rushing back at once. The trial. He had lost.

“Ah, you’re finally awake.” Michael stared at who was sitting at the end of the sofa. Adrenaline rushed quickly through him. Michael scrambled backwards, falling off the couch in the process. “H-Hey! Michael!” The woman pulled Michael back onto his feet. “That’s no way to greet an old friend.”

“I’m hallucinating… I’ve finally gone crazy…” It couldn’t be real. It was impossible. The woman turned Michael to face her, keeping her hands firm on his shoulders.

“Michael, I want you to look at me.” Michael stared at the woman before him. Her hair and her clothes… they matched Eliza’s perfectly. Everything else though… her dark skin, her calm facial features, those brown eyes… even her body shape. It was Angelica’s.

“An-Angelica? It’s really you, isn't it?” The woman smiled.

“Didn’t you know the the members of the Schuyler family are known for their strong, psychic abilities?” said Angelica. Michael remembered Eliza mentioning something about it the other day. He didn’t believe it, but now semi-living proof was standing right in front of him. “When you accept your defeat in court, it appears that it was enough of a shock to awaken Eliza’s true powers.”

“So…. Eliza is channeling you?” Michael was still in awe about it. Angelica nodded.

“That’s right. This body belongs to Eliza, but my consciousness is in control. It’s why I look like this.” Well, the reason for her strange appearance was cleared up. “Now I want you to listen to me, Michael. Eliza never gave up on you. You can’t either. Do you remember when we first met?” Michael sighed, sitting down on the sofa again.

“Yes. I wish I could forget it but…” Angelica sat down next to him. “How could I forget being backstabbed like that?”

“Michael. I proved you innocent, didn’t I?” Michael nodded. 

The day Michael met Angelica Schuyler was the same day of his first time in court. Unfortunately, this wasn’t as a lawyer. Michael had been arrested two years ago on charges of murder. Thanks to Angelica’s defense, he had been found innocent. However, the events of the trial itself would be something Michael wished he could forget.

“Michael?” Michael looked over at Angelica. “Do you remember what I told you back then?”

“That I would have to go to the hospital?” Michael could feel his stomach churning at the thought of the aftermath of that trial.

“Er… besides that.” Michael thought back to that day.

“That a lawyer always believes in their client. It’s their greatest weapon.” Angelica nodded.

“You can’t give up on your belief now. You know Eliza is innocent. You know that you’re innocent. And Eliza believes the world in you right now. You can’t give up on yourself. You have to believe you can win this trial. I know you can.”

“B-But…!” Michael didn't have any evidence left to give. His own testimony wouldn’t hold up, either. He couldn’t prove it.

“You’ve already won.”

“Huh?” He was just about to be declared guilty in the courtroom. How did he win? 

Angelica left the room for a minute. When she returned, Michael was surprised to see that she had a piece of evidence with her. Still sealed in it’s evidence bag as the bloody piece of paper Angelica was holding the night of her death.

“That’s… That’s the paper you wrote Eliza’s name on, right?”

“Michael, Mercado wrote this, not me!” She put it into his hand. Michael stared down at it.

“What do I do with it…?”

“Flip it over.” Michael glanced up at Angelica before following her instructions. Something was printed on the back of the small slip. 

_ It's a regular receipt... Looks like it's from a famous department store. "$1,000.00"... wow, big spender! "Item"... "glass light stand"...! "Date of purchase"... "September 4"... _

“This is…” said Michael. He was grinning like an idiot. “Angie, you're a genius!” This was just what he needed to prove Mercado’s guilt.  “Mercado said he saw the light stand a week before the murder. This proves that you bought the light stand the day before you died!” Angelica laughed at Michael’s enthusiasm. His small celebration was halted at the sounds of scuffling from outside the defendant's lobby.

“I think court is about to reconvene.”  Michael and Angelica walked out of the lobby together, Michael clutching tightly onto the receipt. “You know you’re innocent, now prove it!”

“Right!” His resolve was back. Now Michael was going to tear Mercado apart of the stand, no matter what happened. He was going to reveal the truth.

* * *

 

**September 9, 2016**

**1:16 PM**

**District Court**

**Courtroom No. 1**

 

The trial soon reconvened. Michael had the receipt with him on the bench. He just had to find the right time to use it. The court was ready to pick up where they left off when Jeremy happened.

“Your Honor, there is nothing left to go back to!” said the prosecutor. “The cross-examination of Mr. Mercado is finished. All that’s left it for you to give the verdict.”

“Your Honor, please! Give me one more chance,” Michael pleaded. He had to get his evidence out on the table. “This is the last time I’ll ask you. I promise!” The Judge contemplated this.

“But as Mr. Heere noted, this trial is more or less finished. Mr. Heere, do you have an opinion on this matter?” Jeremy locked eyes with Michael from across the courtroom. Michael could feel a spark. Maybe he had the same thought that Michael did? Or was it something else?

“I say…” Jeremy bit down on his lower lip. “I say give him a chance.” Michael grinned as the Judge gave him his shot.

“Thank you, Your Honor. Mr. Heere.” Michael began his cross-examination, holding up the bloody receipt. “Look closely at this. See the word ‘Eliza’ written in blood?”

“What about it?”

“It’s not the writing that’s important. It’s what’s on the other side.”

“Th-The other side?” Michael walked over to Judge’s bench. He held out the evidence to the old man.

“Your Honor, would you tell the court what is written on the other side of this paper?” The Judge took the paper from Michael.

“It’s a receipt for a glass light stand,” he said, reading the receipt. “And the date of purchase… it’s September 4th! The day before the murder!” There were gathered whispers as the Judge gave back the receipt.

“You see!” Michael turned to the witness. That had done enough damage to his testimony. Mercado looked like was about to break again. Michael dropped the receipt off at the evidence table as he spoke. “Mr. Mercado, when you allegedly entered Schuyler & Co. Law Offices at the beginning of September, you should not have seen the light stand. I should know. I put the light stand together myself on the day of the murder! And this receipt helps support that.” The evidence had proven to been enough. Mercado let out another confused shriek. Michael returned to the defense's bench. “Well, Mr. Mercado?”

“No…” Mercado loudly mumbled. “It’s… It’s impossible.”

_ He’s starting to lose it. _

“Well, Your Honor. I understand there must be quite a bit of pressure on you,” Michael continued. “But I think you’ll agree that you can’t declare me guilty under these circum—”

“OBJECTION!”

_ What!? No way he can worm his way out of this one! Oh wait… I forgot. It's Jeremy. _

“There is a certain thread of logic to our defendant’s claims. However… there is no concrete proof that Michael Mell is innocent!” Michael felt like he had just been slapped in the face. “Therefore, I… I would like to request one more day before Michael is granted his freedom. I need more time to make one more inquiry on this matter.”   


_ Another inquiry...!? This isn't going to be another one of those "updated autopsy reports"! I swear, he just makes up evidence as he pleases! This is bad…  _  Michael slammed his hands down on the bench.

“Mr. Mercado’s guilt is obvious!” he objected. “There is no need to prolong this trial any further!”

“Well, Mr. Heere?”

“If anyone is going to call Mr. Mercado to trial, it would be me,” Jeremy said to the Judge. “I need a day to determine whether or not the defense’s claims are built on false evidence.”

“I see. The defense’s objection has been denied.”

“What?!” 

_ No, no, no, no, no, no!  _ Angelica grabbed a piece of paper from Michael’s case file. She began hasilty scribbling something down on it with a pen she also took from the bench.

“The completion of the trial of Mr. Michael Mell will be postponed until tomorrow.”

_ No! There's no telling what will happen if I can't end this now! Jeremy is sure to come up with—or just make up—something! And after Angelica showed up to help me and all… _

“Your Honor, may I go home?” Mercado asked lazily.

“Of course. Thank you for your time.”

_ Crap! _

The trial came to halt when Angelica slammed her hands on the bench.

“The witness will stay!” she demanded. She handed the paper over to Michael. “Michael, I want you to read this note out loud.”

“What’s this?” Michael stared down at it. It was a list of names. With a nod from Angelica, a confident look on her face, Michael clear his throat. “Um… Your Honor. If I may…?”

“You’re quite persistent today, Mr. Mell,” said the Judge. “What is it?”

_ My life is riding on this one! _

“I have something I would like to read to this court,” Michael announced. He held up the paper. “This is a memo my co-counsel has given me. On it is a list of names. The list starts off like so: Diego Armando, Shadi Enigmar, Metis Cykes, Lana Skye, Simon Black—” Mercado cut him off with a yell.

“S-St-Stop! Cease! Desist!” Mercado shouted. “Please, stop! How… How did you get that list!? I destroyed it!” A collective gasp rose from the audience. It took Mercado only a second to realize what he said.

“Mr. Mercado,” said Angelica. Michael had never heard her sound so cold. Well, to be fair, this was her murderer. “Admit your guilt. Or else this list will be released to the press.” Sweat collected on Mercado’s brow. He glanced to the defense, to the prosecution—who looked away from him—and settled on the judge. He dropped his head down. Even he knew it. He had lost. 

“I… I confess. I… I did it. I hit her. I hit Angelica Schuyler with the ‘Thinker’ and killed her!”

“Case closed, your Honor.” Michael had never seen Angelica look so satisfied as Mercado was lead out of the courtroom, safe and in custody. Michael grinned. He had not only proved his own innocence, but Eliza’s as well.

“You've done it again!” said the Judge. “That was quite a spirited defense, Mr. Mell.” Michael and Angelica exchanged looks with each other.

“I guess you could say that.”

_ If only you knew how "spirit"-ed it was! _

“Well then. This court finds the defendant…” the Judge cleared his throat, “rather, the defendants, Ms. Elizabeth Schuyler and Mr. Michael Mell… Not Guilty!” Confetti rained down on the court. Michael didn't know where it came from. He was too overjoyed to care. It had been only his second trial, and he had managed to scrape by with another win. He spun Angelica around behind the bench, both of them shrieking and laughing in their victory.

Amidst his celebration with Angelica, Michael failed to see the look of absolute terror and despair on Jeremy’s face.

* * *

 

**September 9, 2016**

**2:24 PM**

**District Court**

**Defendant Lobby No. 1**

 

Michael was still over the moon as he and Angelica took their celebration to the defendant's lobby.

“Well, I’d never thought I’d be saying this again but…” Angelica said, wiping a happy tear from her eye, “Congratulations! You’re lucky I was born a Schuyler!”

“I’m just lucky I had both you and Eliza on my side,” Michael replied. He didn’t know what he would have done without the sisters.

“Thank you, Michael.” Angelica had calmed down by now. “You risked a lot to help me and Eliza. I won’t forget this as long as I live.”

_ As long as you "live"...? Angie, hate to break it to you but… _

Without warning, Angelica leaned up against Michael. She was fitting all of her weight on him.

“Angie!”

“My time here is running out.” Angelica pushed off of him, standing on her own. Michael looked at her with concern. “Remember, Eliza’s powers are still weak. I can’t stay here long.”

“Wh-What?!” It felt like he had just gotten his mentor back. Now he was going to lose her again.

“Don't worry, we’ll meet again.” Angelica made her way towards the door.

“Ch-Chief!” Angelica laughed weakly.

“I’m not Chief anymore.” That took a stab at Michael’s heart. “Michael? “ Angelica was already at the door. “Can you come to the office tonight? Around 9:00?”

“The… office?” Michael didn’t understand what she was talking about. Angelica flashed him one more sincere smile.

“I’ll see you later.” Angelica left the defendant’s lobby, leaving Michael alone in the dust.

* * *

 

**September 9, 2016**

**9:02 PM**

**Schuyler & Co. Law Offices**

 

This time around, Michael made sure he wasn’t late. He stood outside Angelica’s office for what felt like minutes. Through all of them, he was left alone. Gathering resolve, Michael decided to enter Angelica’s office. It was untouched. Nothing had changed from how he left it two days before.

_ Being here, it's hard not to think about that night… _

“You came!” Michael took himself out of his thoughts. Standing in the shadows was a woman. He knew it could only be one person. “I was kind of worried you wouldn’t.”

“Of course I came,” Michael replied. There was so much left to do.

“Well then! I’m pretty hungry. How about dinner?” Michael blinked.

“Angelica…?” To Michael’s utter surprise, “Angelica” burst into laughter. The woman stepped out of the shadows. Standing before Michael was Elizabeth Schuyler. “E-Elizabeth?!”

“You should have seen your face!” Eliza said through her laughter. “What? Do I look that much like my sister? Hmm… I might be able to use that.”

_ Look like... you  _ were _ her earlier! _

“Um… Elizabeth?” Michael questioned. “Why are you here? I thought…”

“Because of this.” From her bell-like sleeve, Eliza pulled out a note. She handed it to Michael. He unfolded it, reading it over. “Angelica wrote this. When I woke up, it was in my hand. She told me to take care of you.”

“Take care of…” Michael looked up at Eliza. “Huh?”

“She wants me to take care of you and the office. This office. Someone has to help with the new Mell & Co. Law Offices, right? Who better than me?” 

_ Mell & Co…. what? _

“Elizabeth Schuyler, reporting for duty! Wait, no. On second thought, let’s make this casual. Eliza here, ready to get down to business! You know what this means? We’re partners in crime now. Well, partners in law.”

“P-Partners?” Michael looked down at the note Angelica left Eliza. She wasn’t lying. This was more like Angelica’s will if anything. And she was passing on her law office to Michael. “Elizabeth, are you sure?”

“Positive. I have a promise to keep to my sister.” Eliza’s tone turned gentler. “And… after all you’ve done for me… No more of that ‘Elizabeth’ business. You can call me Eliza. You’ve earned it.” Michael folded the note in half.

_ You know, when I think about it... It is Elizabeth’s _ — _ … Eliza’s fault I'm here now. But... If it wasn't for her I'd probably be in jail. _

“Mell & Co. Law Offices, huh?” Michael repeated. Eliza gave him a nod. “It’s got a good ring to it! Yeah. Thanks Elizabeth… er… Eliza!” Eliza grinned. She walked forward, taking Michael’s hands in hers. For a second, Michael could have sworn he saw the shimmering, spectral form of Angelica Schuyler.

_ Good luck Michael _ … a voice echoed in the attorney’s head.  _ I’ll always be watching _ .

“Right!” Eliza said, She dropped her hands. The spirit flickered before fading away. 

_ Maybe it’s a spirit medium thing… Wait, does that mean Eliza can see ghosts? Wait, is my law office haunted?! _

“Okay, let’s do it!” Michael looked at Eliza as he thoughts of haunted offices died out. 

“Do what?” he said.

“Dinner!” Eliza took Michael by the hand, leading him out the door. “There’s a great place just down the street! Come on, time’s a wastin’!”

“Eliza! Wait up!”

The faint laugh of a woman echoed throughout Mell & Co. Michael’s life was about to change, and thought it would take a while, it would slowly change for the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is one more chapter to go for the Turnabout Sisters arc. Then, it's on to Turnabout Samurai!
> 
> Hope y'all found the Easter egg! A lot will be explained in the next chapter. I also hinted at past events that will be included and shown in Trials and Tribulations... If I get that far. i mean... If enough people like it that is.
> 
> Anyway, Turnabout Sisters has featured characters from the following shows:  
>  \- Be More Chill  
>  \- Hamilton  
>  \- Wicked  
>  \- West Side Story


	6. Two Player Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Jeremy weren't always rivals. At one point in time, they used to be friends... best friends.

**September 14, 2008**

**12:25 PM**

**Two River High School**

**Cafeteria**

 

Two River High School was an overly crowded place. It was a flood of hormonal teenagers trying to get through four years of hell and survive long enough just to come out on the other side. No other place on the campus was crowded than the cafeteria. High school junior Michael Mell was making his way through the stuffy cafeteria, hot from dying summer air and chatter of his classmates. His eyes scanned the crowd. There was one person he was looking for in particular.

“Michael!” And there he was. Michael picked up his pace until he saw that familiar head of light brown hair. His best friend, Jeremy Heere was waving at him. Michael plopped down on the seat opposite Jeremy. The din of the cafeteria seemed to quiet.

“Hey, Jeremy,” said Michael. He leaned over, snatching a fry from Jeremy's lunch. “How’s it hanging?” Jeremy responded with a small shrug. “You look like ass. What's wrong?” Jeremy pushed his lunch off the side. He picked up his backpack from the floor, showing the front to Michael. Written on the front of it in black Sharpie was the word “BOYF”. Michael immediately knew what it meant. He felt himself choke on air and his heart stop.

“Boyf?” said Jeremy, sounding a bit pissed, “What does that even mean?” Michael let his own bag slide off of his shoulder. He propped it up against Jeremy’s. Just like with his friend, Michael’s backpack had also been tagged with graffiti that morning. The only difference is that Michael’s bag read “RIENDS”. He put the two together and showed the bags to Jeremy. When put together, the boys’ bags read “BOYFRIENDS”. Jeremy groaned, pulling his bag off the table. Michael followed.

“I hate this school,” he said before pulling his lunch back towards himself.

“Oh, come on,” said Michael, nudged him with a finger. “There has to be one good thing that’s happened to you today.”

“I wrote a letter to Christine telling her how I feel.” Ah, yes. Christine Canigula. Michael could have sworn that Jeremy had a crush on that girl since they first had biology together in freshman year. From that point to now, Jeremy had failed to tell Christine how he felt. Michael wasn’t even sure that Christine knew his name.

“That’s progress!” said Michael.

“I tore it up and flushed it.” Michael gave Jeremy a condescending stare. “That’s still progress. “  
”It's all good.” Michael took another fry away from Jeremy. “I saw on Discovery Channel that humanity has stopped evolving.”

“How is that good?”

“Evolution survival of the fittest, right?’ Jeremy nodded. “But because of technology, you don’t have to be strong to survive. There’s never been a better time in history to be a loser! So own it! Why try to be cool when you can be—” Michael stopped when he saw a love-struck look in Jeremy’s eyes. He followed to gaze to a teenage girl writing her name on a sign-up sheet that was posted in the cafeteria. Christine. No wonder Jeremy looked like that.

Everything happened like it was in slow motion. Jeremy got up from his chair. He walked over to the sign-up sheet. From where he sat, Michael could see Jeremy’s hand shaking as he grabbed the pen. He signed his name next to  Christine’s. That’s when it happened.

“Gay!” someone shouted, loud and clear for the entire cafeteria to hear. Michael wasted no time in grabbing his and Jeremy’s bags off the table. As laughter swelled, Michael lead Jeremy out of the cafeteria and into the quiet hall.

“Did you really just sign up for the school play because Christine did?” Michael asked Jeremy as soon as they got far away from any source of humility. Jeremy sighed, taking his backpack from Michael.

“Yes.” He sighed again, gripping the bag tightly. “That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

“I think you can do it,” Michael said, wrapping an arm over Jeremy’s shoulder. “Of course, you don’t have to. But, if you don’t, you’ll get mocked for it.”

“Gee, thanks.” Okay, that wasn’t the best thing to say.

_ Ahh, think of something Michael. Quick! _

“Uh… Hey! You want to play video games when we get out? We could try and beat that level we’ve been stuck on.”

Jeremy perked up at that. 

_ Alright, Michael. Score one for you. _

* * *

**September 14, 2008**

**3:28 P.M.**

**Heere Residence**

**Basement**

 

The basement of the Heere household had to be one of Michael's favorite spots in the world. It was musty and spacious, with a video game system that had been set up long ago. The entire area surrounding it had been perfected for the two boys who frequented the spot most over the years.

Jeremy popped the disc into the system. The game booted up as he took his place besides Michael on a pair of bean bag chairs.

“Apocalypse of the Damned!” Michael cheered as Jeremy handed him a controller. The game immediately picked up where the two had left off.

“Level nine!”

“The cafetorium!” The two players knew exactly what to do. They had gone over the level multiple times, but never had actually managed to finish it. Michael knew Jeremy would have his back while playing the game. It was a pact that they had. They wouldn't leave each other behind, whether in the virtual world or the real one.

“Hey, Michael?” Jeremy asked as they restarted the level for the third time. “I’m cool, right?”

“You’re asking me this because…?”

“Just because.” 

“Dude, you’re cooler than a vintage cassette,” Michael answered.  _ It’s just that no but me thinks that yet.  _ “We’re nothings in this grand high school scheme. It’s no big deal cause you and I are a team!”

“That's not helpful.” Michael shifted his his chair.

“Just keep in mind that guys like us are cool in college.” Jeremy loudly groaned. This hadn’t been the first time Michael brought up this fact. “High school is hell, but we navigate to well. Because what we do is make it a two player game!”

“Zombie!” Jeremy screeched suddenly as the jumpscare played on the screen. The GAME OVER music played as both players were slain. “We’re stuck on a level and I want to move on. And I’m not talking about AOTD.”

“Just wait for two years.” The game started up again. “You’ll realize that guys like us are cool in college.” Jeremy groaned again.

“Dude, I know. I get it. But we’re not in college.”

“All the same,” Michael said with a slight shrug. “High school is wack, but we have each other's back. It’s me and you. It’s our two player game.” The smirk from Jeremy made Michael grin in return.

The two boys sat in the basement, yelling out the most random words that they could think of every time that they died in game. They didn’t even notice a voice calling out for Jeremy until the door to the basement opened.

Michael paused the game as Jeremy’s father came down into the basement.

“Dad!” screeched Jeremy, “Put your pants on!” Michael leaned back into this chair. 

“Hey, Michael,” said Mr. Heere. Michael gave him a small wave.

“Hiya, Mr. Heere.”

“Dad, did you get dressed today?” said Jeremy. He was less than pleased to see his father. “Like… at all?”

“They don’t need me down at the office. So, I worked from home.” Jeremy mumbled something Michael couldn’t quite hear.

_ Looks like Jeremy still isn’t on good terms with his dad. I don’t get why. His dad is a pretty cool dude… on occasion. _

“Most people wear pants at home,” Jeremy fired back. “Right, Michael?”

“Uh…”

_ Please don’t pull me into this. _

“Most people… aren’t your father…” Mr. Heere sighed. This is how most arguments between father and son usually went. “I came down here to tell you that your uncle is coming for dinner tonight.” Jeremy sunk back further into his squishy chair.

“Why?”

“He’s family, Jeremy. It’s something you can’t avoid.”

_ If there’s one thing the Heere men can agree on… it’s their dislike for Mrs. Heere’s brother. Don’t blame them. The guy creeps me out. _

“Does that mean you’ll be putting pants on then?” Jeremy said bitterly.

“... Good talk.” Mr Heere hurried up the stairs. The door shut behind him. Michael didn’t unpause the game.

“How’s he doing?” he asked, breaking the silence that had been left behind. Jeremy sighed.

“How does it look?” He said. “It’s been almost seven years, and he’s still a mess. You know he can’t even hear the word ‘court’ anymore? He says it reminds him too much of her.”

_ Her. Jeremy’s mother. She died, or rather, was murdered. Jeremy was there when it happened. I still remember him showing up in tears at my house. Has it really been seven years?  _ A sniff from Jeremy broke Michael out of his thought.  _ Oh crap, did I… is he thinking about it? _

Michael reached out to wrap an arm around his friend.

“Hey―” Jeremy pushed Michael’s touch away.

“I don’t want that to be my future! I want to be cool. Not…” Jeremy sighed again. “Mot at home without pants.” Jeremy was so low in his chair he was almost touching the floor. “He says that I should try to be a defense attorney like my mom was. He says that’s what… uh… you know. It's what she would have wanted. She was always so cool in court. Everyone respected her… I want to be like that. Cool and confident.” Jeremy’s frown turned upside down. “That’s why I’ll be a defense lawyer like her. Cool and confident!” Only one thought came to Michael’s mind.

“Will you be too cool for m—” Michael cut himself off there, covering it up with a quick cough.  _ Oh thank God I don’t think he noticed _ . “Will you be too cool for video games, Future Mr. Attorney?”

“You know that you are my favorite person,” Jeremy said with a laugh. Michael’s heart jumped into his throat. “That doesn’t mean I can’t still dream.” Michael leaned over, putting his weight on top of Jeremy.

“Is it really true, I'm your favowite pewson~?” The tone was slightly mocking, but the question itself was genuine. Jeremy gave his friend a nod.

“Yeah. We’re never not going to be a team. High school is shit, and you help me conquer it. It’s just what we do.”

“We make it two player game!” both boys said in unison. Michael had flopped onto Jeremy at his point. The bean bag chair couldn’t take the unbalanced weight. Jeremy Heere and Michael Mell fell onto the basement floor in a fit of laughter.

* * *

 

**September 10, 2016**

**5:53 PM**

**Mell & Co. Law Offices**

 

Michael gazed over at the backpack sitting in the corner. The word ‘riends’ stared back at him, faintly faded away from time. It had been a few days since the trial. He was stuck in the office with no legal work to do. Well, Eliza had roped him into doing some work. It was a grim task, one Michael rather not do. The task, however, provided a sense of closure.

But the trial had dug up so many old memories: memories Michael had made with Jeremy. They were painful to think about now, considering the present. He was pretty sure that Jeremy hated him. But… Jeremy had warned him about what the prosecutor’s office had told him. Not to mention he ran from the prosecutor's lobby just to visit Michael when the whole thing started. Neither interaction ended well.

_ Why does my life have to be full of complications? _

“Michael, do you have the flowers?” Michael tore his eyes away from the backpack. Standing in front of him was Eliza. She had a series of papers in her hands. He blinked.

“What?”

“I asked you if you order the flowers arrangements for Angelica’s funeral.”

“Oh. Er…” Michael sorted through the papers on his desk. He pulled out a confirmation from a nearby florist. “Yeah I did.” He handed off the notice to Eliza. “Sorry, Eliza. I guess I’m just out of it.”

“Are you still thinking about the trial?” It was like Eliza was able to read minds in addition to being able to channel the dead.

“No.” Eliza raised a brow. “I mean… I guess. In a way.” Michael leaned back into his desk chair. “I was just thinking about when I was in high school. My best friend and stuff like that. We were inseparable.”

“Really? I never heard of this person before.” If Eliza only knew who Michael was talking about, then she would be saying something else entirely.

“We…” Michael inhaled through his teeth, “really don't talk much anymore. I mean, I’ve only seen the guy a couple of times since I was sixteen.”

_ Both of them being during her trial… but Eliza doesn’t need to know that. _

“That doesn’t make sense,” said Eliza. “If you two were so close… what happened?” Michael sighed.

“That’s a good question,” he said. “I don’t know what happened myself. He just got more and more distant. We got into a fight and…” Michael sighed again, raking his fingers back through his dark hair. “Eliza, can we finish these up? I really don't want to talk about this.”

“Alright.” Eliza’s concerned gaze lingered on Michael before she went back to talking over what she had done that day.

_ Jeremy… what happened to you…? _

* * *

**September 10, 2016**

**6:01 PM**

**Williams Residence**

 

The room was dark. Jeremy never liked his uncle's office. It always carried that hint of fear in it. The only light that came into the room was the dying sunlight from the window. Jeremy had been called in here. And he knew why.

“One victory after another,” said Jeremy's uncle as he paced back and forth in front of his nephew. “It’s an impressive record, Jeremy.”

“I know,” Jeremy replied. His voice was flat. It wasn’t the same as normal. It wasn't the same behavior he presented in court. “It’s just like what you say, right? Nothing but perfection.”

“A perfection made imperfection.” The man slammed hand down on his desk. Jeremy flinched. “It makes your one loss all the more infuriating.”

“I… I’m sorry. I’ll do better, I promise! I-I’ve always listened to what you’ve told me. It… it can’t be wrong, can it?”

“Stop stuttering.” The man put a hand on Jeremy's shoulder, the other one was rested on his face. He was acting like the parental figure he wasn't. “Jeremy, you can’t listen. You have to obey. Now, repeat after of me.”

“Again?” The simple word was out of Jeremy’s mouth before he could stop it. The man grew irritated. His fingers were digging into Jeremy’s shoulder. He winced.

“Yes, again. Now repeat. Everything about you is so terrible.” Jeremy sighed. 

“Everything about me is just so terrible…” The one punishment Jeremy wanted to avoid.

“Good. Everything about you makes me wanna die.”

“Everything about me makes me wanna die.”

“Now you've got it. But Jeremy, soon you’ll see that if you listen to me, everything about you is going to be wonderful,” said Jeremy’s uncle with a sickening grin that left a sour feeling in Jeremy’s stomach. His grip relaxed. “Everything about you is going to be so alive. You won’t feel unsure. You won’t be ugly anymore. Everything about you is going to be cool and powerful. Incredible.  _ Perfect _ .” Jeremy swallowed down something in his throat.

“... Yes…” Jeremy’s voice was barely above a whisper. His uncle stepped away from him. He made his way towards the door.

“In you next trial with…  _ that man _ … you need to cast your feelings aside. He is nothing more than an obstacle. Remember, Jeremy. Guilt is justice. It's what your parents would have wanted. Bring them to justice. Don’t let what happened to you happen to anyone else.” Jeremy gripped his sleeve.

“I understand.” His uncle left the room, leaving Jeremy Heere alone in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this chapter concludes the Turnabout Sisters arc! Unfortunately, there won't be an update until either A) I finish Turnabout Samurai or B) Christmas. I plan on uploading a chapter on Christmas as sort of a tiny present.
> 
> This won't be the last flashback-centric chapter. There is one after Turnabout Samurai and one after the final case in the story. Then things go to hell depending on whether or not I do Justice For All.
> 
> Well, this gives a little more insight into the AU. Can anyone guess who Jeremy's uncle is supposed to be?


	7. Turnabout Samurai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael finds the first case for the new Mell & Co. Law Offices to tackle: defending one of the stars of Michael's favorite TV show. The only problem is, Michael has very little evidence to go off of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> since it's christmas around the time I'm posting this, unlike the normal schedule of posting on Sunday, I'm going to be posting two chapters today. It wold actually be more appropriate if this were Turnabout Goodbyes but... that's not done yet.

_ A month has passed since my trial. Angelica's murder was the talk of the town for some time... But no one paid any attention to the Mell & Co. Law Offices... Eliza has been trying to keep positive. But I’m not so sure anymore. I’ve been watching nothing but Steel Samurai reruns for days. She thinks its childish, despite the fact that we’re the same age. It brings me comfort… and happier memories. _

_ Then  _ it _ happened. _

* * *

**October 16, 2016**

**9:22 AM**

**Mell & Co. Law Offices**

 

That morning, Michael immediately called Eliza down to the office in a frantic panic. He was pretty sure that she didn’t understand a word he had said, but had seemed to get the gist of it by how Michael sounded. When she burst into the office, her hair was half-done, and she had her jacket in her hands, despite the frigid October air. Michael was already dressed, still fiddling with his tie.

“Michael, what’s going on?” she said. Oh God, Michael really did worry her. “Are you okay?!”

“What? Yeah, I’m perfectly fine.” Eliza gave Michael a confused look as he guided her in front of his laptop, which was already set up on his desk. Lucky for him, the news station had already put the report from that morning up on their website. “Just sit down at watch.” He pressed play on the video.

_ “Now for the morning news,”  _ said the anchor whose face was now plastered on the screen, “ _ Actress Cassidy “Cassie” Ferguson was arrested yesterday. Ferguson plays the female lead role in the popular kids show  _ The Steel Samurai: Warrior of Neo Olde Tokyo. _ She was arrested on suspicion of murder. The victim was Charlie Kelly, who plays the villain known as the ‘Evil Magistrate’. His body was found still inside the Evil Magistrate costume. The ‘Samurai Spear’ was also found stuck through the body. Police believe this was the murder weapon and are investigating further.” _

Eliza stopped the video there.

“This has to be a joke,” she said. Michael closed his laptop, narrowly missing bringing the screen down on Eliza’s fingers.

“It’s not a joke, Eliza. This is a nightmare.” Michael could have sworn for a second that Eliza rolled her eyes at him. Before Eliza could berate him on a multitude of things that were wrong with what he just did, the office’s phone rang. Eliza answered before Michael could grab it.

“Yes? Yes… this is Mell & Co Law Offices…” she said. Her eyes grew wide. “What?! Michael. I-It’s Cassie Ferguson!”

“What?! Let me talk to her!” Eliza handed the phone over to Michael. He was practically bouncing. He only grew more excited when the actress told him why she had called. “Yes!” He cleared his throat before changing to a more professional tone. “I mean… yes, of course. We’ll be right there!” Michael hung up. He grabbed his jacket from a nearby coat rack.

“Let’s go, Eliza,” said Michael as he pulled the garment on. “Now!” Eliza stared at Michael as he rushed around the office, looking for his car keys.

“Go?” she said. “Go where?” Michael stopped in front of the desk and shoved his hand into his pocket. He grinned as he pulled  out his keyring.

“They have Cassie down in detention!”

“Yeah, Of course they do. So what?”

“So, I’ve decided to take her case!”  Michael bolted out the door. Eliza rushed after him.

* * *

 

**October 16, 2016**

**9:37 AM**

**Detention Center**

**Visitor's Room**

 

When Michael went to the detention center to meet his new client, he didn’t expect her to be in utter tears. It felt uncomfortable watching her sob behind the glass, and not being about to do anything to help.

“Michael…?” Eliza said. She was still fixing her hair. “I don’t think she did it.”

“Yeah, I kinda guessed,” Michael whispered back. 

_ I think the innocent always cry when arrested. And I know that those are real tears. It's hard to fake those without unnatural assistance. I'm pretty sure Cassie doesn't have anything like that on her... _

Michael and Eliza quickly introduced themselves to their new client as soon as Cassie calmed down.

“Um… Cassie?” Michael asked the actress. “Could you tell us what happened?”

“Y-Yes. Of course,” said Cassie. She wiped away any remaining tears with the back of her hand. “The cast had come to Global Studios for a run-through of a new episode. We went through a few action sequences at 10:00 that morning. Rehearsal was at 5:00 at the studio. But when the staff went there, they found the Evil Magistrate lying on the floor. The took off his mask and saw it was Charlie. He had been skewered by the Samurai Spear.”

“The Samurai Spear…?” Eliza repeated.

“Yes. It's a long spear that Mark, my co-star, uses as a weapon. He plays the Steel Samurai.”

“Maybe you could explain to me just what the Steel Samurai is. Michael was really vague on that.”

“Hey!”

_ Not my fault you didn't pay attention when I was watching the episodes! _

For the first time since their arrival, Michael heard a small sliver of laughter coming from Cassie.

“No, it's quite alright. Really,” she said. “The Steel Samurai is the lead character in a our show.” Eliza gave Michael a side glance. “He walks to street of Neo Olde Tokyo, fighting battle after battle against the Evil Magistrate. I play the female lead, the Iron Maiden. I would help the Steel Samurai. I guess the villain was really defeated this time…” Cassie sniffed. She was crying again.

“I-I see…” muttered Michael. It was hard to watch someone end up in tears without being able to do anything about it. “Where were you when the murder occurred? What happened?”

“Well, that morning I came to the studios at 9:00,” Cassie said in between her sobbing. “We worked through some action scenes until noon. Rehearsal was to begin at 5:00, but I was tired. So after lunch, I took a nap in my dressing room. When I woke up, it was after 5:00 so I hurried to the studio before the director could get mad at me. But when I got there, I found everyone looking shocked. They arrested me on the spot, and brought me here.”

_ So she was sleeping the entire afternoon of the murder? That alibi is not going to hold up in court. _

“I wonder what the kids will think of me now…” Cassie continued, wiping away tears.

“I’m sure that their opinions won’t change.” Michael knew that a handful of people, mostly young girls, looked up to Cassie’s character. “But for now, I think I should probably check out the scene of the murder.”

“Right… Global Studios. Hold on, I can give you the address.”

* * *

 

**October 16, 2016**

**10:03 AM**

**Global Studios**

**Main Gate**

 

Michael was like a kid on Christmas morning when he and Eliza made it to Global Studios. However, as soon as they made it to the studios’ main gate, they were met with an obstacle. An old security guard had pushed them into a halt before they could even start the investigation. She wouldn’t even let Eliza explain what they were doing there.

“I’m security,” said the woman before Eliza could even finish her statement. “It’s my job to make sure that gawkers like you stay  _ out _ .”

“G-Gawkers?” Eliza repeated. “But we're not—”

“Gawkers! Sightseers! Tourists! I know the type. You heard about the incident and came to snoop around. Youths today! Something horrible happens and all you can think of is sightseeing. Wasting your time at a place like this. Don't you have jobs you should be doing? Or do lawyers not work like the rest of us?” It was around this point that Michael zoned out. She went on rambling for a few seconds before snapping at Michael to get him to pay attention again.

“So… um… Miss,” said Michael, “What exactly does your job entail here at the studio?” Maybe if he could butter her up, she would let him and Eliza through.

“At Global Studios, we make children’s dream come true. In fact in my younger days—”

“You were a star?” questioned Eliza. Just like Michael, she didn’t seem to believe it.

“Only a little twinkle between stars here, I’m afraid.” Now that was more believable. “This place has really gone downhill, you know? But ten years ago, now that was a studio of dreams! Charlie was a big star back then, too. In fact, that’s how he met his wife.”

“Charlie? Oh, you mean Mr. Kelly. Wait, he’s married?”

“Yes. He married a young dancer. She retired a few years ago, though. Ironically, ever since she did, Kelly was reduced to playing small roles like the Evil Magistrate.”

“What kind of person was Charlie Kelly?”

“What kind of person?” The woman got a lovesick look. “If only you knew! Charlie Kelly will live on in many hearts as the ultimate action hero! He was simply dashing in the Dynamite Samurai series!”

_ Should I have heard of that...? _

“But... there was an accident during filming five years ago. He got an unlucky break after that. Reduced to playing the villain on a children's program! What's more, I heard they were paying him peanuts. It's enough to make you cry,” continued the woman. “Still. Talent wise, he doesn't deserve to be on the same set as that woman!”

_ That woman… oh. She must mean Cassie _ .

“Um… can you tell me about Cassie Ferguson?” Michael asked. The woman leaned up against her security booth.

“She’s not a bad kid, but don’t be fooled. You wouldn’t want her on the silver screen, believe me. She’s an absolute wreck half of the time,” the woman told him. “That’s probably why she thought that  _ the Steel Samurai _ was her big chance. No one thought she was capable of doing what she did to poor Charlie Kelly.”

“We don’t know that Cassie is guilty!” interjected Eliza. The woman could have shot lasers through Eliza right then and there.

“Cassidy Ferguson is guilty! I know because I know everything! It’s part of my job.” 

“Why are you so certain that Cassie is the killer?” asked Michael, taking a small step back from the security guard.

“I was standing right here yesterday from one in the afternoon to five. I was there when they found the body!”

“Um.. do you think we can check out the studio where the murder took place?” Michael wanted the chance to investigate before the trial. Maybe it would help better his defense.

“The studio is just to the left of here. If you want to go to the studio, you have to pass by me! Only one person went by here between 1:00 and 2:30, when the murder took place!”

“And that person… was Ms. Ferguson?”

“Yes.” Michael found that hard to believe given with what Cassie had told them.

“Cassie said that she was asleep in her dressing room…”

“Of course she would say that. However, she was the only one that walked by. She's the killer. I'm betting on it!” The security lady glared at both Michael and Eliza, her eyes like narrow slits. “Isn't it about time for you kids to be heading home? There's nothing to see here.”

“Um… actually…” said Michael, sucking in air through his teeth. “We’re here on Ms. Ferguson's request.” Michael dug around into his pocket. He pulled out a folded piece of paper. Unfolded, it revealed shaky handwriting and several spots were the ink had run. “She gave me this when she gave me the address. I think it’s a letter of request?” It was too hard to tell. Cassie had mentioned that they would have to give this over to anyone who gave them trouble. Was she anticipating this?

“Yes, I recognize this childish scrawl…” the woman muttered, thrusting the paper back at Michael. Rather reluctantly, she let Michael and Eliza pass. However, this was after Eliza had swiped a map from the guard station behind the woman’s back. The pair sped away before Eliza’s theft could be reprimanded.

* * *

 

**October 16, 2016**

**10:58 AM**

**Global Studios**

**Studio One Entrance**

 

The attorney and his partner-in-law walked around the studio. Michael had his eyes over Eliza’s shoulder, staring at the map she held. Together, they were trying to read it while on their wander. The map as more confusing than they had expected. It wasn’t a map; it was a maze.

“Do you think we took a wrong turn?” asked Michael. Eliza shook her head.

“No. That security lady said that we turn left and it should be there!”

“That was three lefts ago.” Eliza groaned loudly. “You wanna ask for directions?”

“No. We are not stopping and asking for direct—” Eliza and Michael had stopped whether or not they wanted to. Eliza had collided with a man. The laws of physics pushed her into Michael. He stumbled backwards as he caught her.

“Hey! Watch where you’re— Oh, it’s you.” Michael fixed his glasses. The man Eliza had bumped into was no other than Detective Fiyero Tiggular. Once again, he was holding a case file. 

“Aren’t you that detective?” Eliza said, brushing dust off of her acolyte clothes. “The one who arrested me and Michael?”

“Er… yeah,” said Detective Tiggular. “Sorry about that. Job description and all.”

“Job description my—” Michael put a hand over Eliza’s mouth before she could finish the sentence.

“Eliza, I think you’re hurting his feelings.” He lowered his hand so Eliza could speak.

“He hurt mine when he arrested me.”

“Well, I think his feelings are easily hurt.” Michael turned his attention to the detective “Er… sorry. No hard feelings, right?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” responded Tiggular. He paused, keeping a firm look on the pair in front of him. “Hey… What exactly are you two doing here?”

“We’re on this case.” A grin lit up on Michael’s face. He pulled out the letter of request again, this time handing it to Detective Tiggular for keeps. “I just happen to be Cassie Ferguson’s lawyer! Eliza is my legal assistant.” Just saying that was strangely pleasing. “So how’s the investigation?” Tiggular easily leaked information last time. Maybe Michael could get him to do it again.

“Well, it’s…” Tiggular put a hand over his own mouth, leaving the rest of that sentence a muffled mystery. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Michael, maybe you need to be a little more indirect?” Eliza said, her voice lowered to only Michael could hear. He responded with a short nod.

“So, Detective!” Michael tried again, keeping himself upbeat. “Mind if I take a look at what you got?” 

“What I got…?” repeated Tiggular, curious look on his face. 

“Yeah. Like…” Michael spotted a file under Tiggular’s arm. “An autopsy report. The latest version, if you please.” He still hadn’t forgotten that little mishap in the Schuyler case.

“Right… Right…” The detective handed over the file under his arm to Michael. He opened it, reading through. It didn’t hurt to get a look at what he would get later anyway. “Sorry about what happened last time, by the way.”

“It’s no problem.” After giving the autopsy report a quick look, he gave the file back the Detective Tiggular.

_ No one really expected Jeremy to do that anyway. _

“So… can you tell me why Ms. Ferguson was arrested?” Michael asked. He found it suspicious that Cassie was arrested immediately. Any other immediate arrest that Michael knew of had at least some reason. Cassie had been nowhere near the scene when the body was found.

“It’s simple,” answered Tiggular. He slid the file into his coat. Michael wondered how big that coat was that Tiggular could hide a whole file. “The murder took place at Studio One over there.” As he said this, Tiggular pointed to the building behind him. “The victim entered there at around 1:00. At that time, there was no one other than the victim in the studio. According to that autopsy report, he died at around 2:30. Only Cassie Ferguson went to the studio at that time. If you think I’m lying, you can ask the sweet security lady at the gate.” Michael wasn’t going to take that risk. 

“Sweet… security lady?”

“She’s so nice. What a charmer!”

“A-Are we talking about the same person?”

“Yeah. She gave me a donut and some coffee. She even gave me a piece of valuable evidence!” Well… that was probably because of Tiggular's face. Michael had to admit, he was quite the handsome man.

“What kind of evidence did she give you?”

“Well… it’s a photo. It’s a picture of Cassie Ferguson heading towards the scene of the crime.” Michael's face went pale.

“What?!” said Eliza. She was just a surprised as Michael. “Who took that?!” Tiggular gestured to a nearby light stand. Attached to it was a security camera.

“See that camera up there?” said the detective. Michael nodded. “Whenever someone walks by, the camera automatically snaps a photo of them.” Michael didn’t want to believe it. The guilty never would have cried as hard as Cassie did in the detention center. Eliza nudged Michael.

“Michael,” she said, sounding worried. “He has evidence. What are we going to do?” Michael stared at Tiggular.

_ Funny, for someone with hard proof he doesn't look too happy. _

“You don’t look to happy when you said that,” Michael pointed out without even thinking. Tiggular avoided looking at the pair, chuckling nervously. He probably had the same feelings Michael had about the case.

“Um… we’d like to ask some employees some questions…” said Eliza. She folded her map in half.

“Sure thing. Go wherever you like. Not sure if there are any employees here, though. The studios are closed to filming until we finish up our investigation,” said the detective. He began walking away from the two. “Fair warning! You’re not going to find any clues I haven’t already found, though!” He was still giggling.

_ I'm glad someone around here seems to be enjoying themselves.  _ Eliza began tugging on Michael’s jacket.

“Michael, come on. We got a free pass to this place now. Let’s go check things out!”

* * *

 

**October 16, 2016**

**11:12 AM**

**Global Studios**

**Employee Area**

 

Michael and Eliza immediately got to work on their investigation. Unfortunately, the pair found themselves locked out of Studio One. That's what Tiggular was hinting at when he said that Michael and Eliza wouldn't find any clues.

Michael rummaged around near a table, taking in the remains of yesterday’s lunch. The crew was probably too shocked to clean up. Bones from steaks were starting to gather flies.

_ Seriously, who has t-bone steaks for lunch?  _ Michael felt his stomach start to growl.

“Okay, not gonna lie,” Michael said, expressing his thoughts out loud. “Eliza, I swear a steak would really be good right around now.” 

“Michael, you had breakfast on the way here,” Eliza replied from the other side of the room.  
“Yeah, but I have a second stomach just for steaks.” He could hear Eliza groan. He turned around to face her. “Oh come on. It's not like you aren't hungry either.”

“I’m not. I stole food from you!”

_ Yeah. You claimed it as payment for making you freak out.  _ Michael looked around the room. There wasn't much there. His eyes fell on a door. There was a name plate attached to it, engraved with Cassie’s name.

_ Cassie’s dressing room... So this is where she was sleeping? Or at least, this is where she claims she was sleeping. _

Michael opened the door. Unlike most of the buildings and rooms in the studio, it had been unlocked.

“Michael, what are you doing?” Eliza asked as she watched Michael enter the dressing room.

“Looking for evidence,” the attorney answered casually as possible. The room looked like it hadn't been disturbed since Cassie’s arrest.

“No one actually saw her sleeping in here, right?”

“Yeah. And there's a picture of her going to the crime scene at the time of the murder.”

_ I hope she's telling the truth... for her sake! _

Michael scoured the room. There had to be some evidence that Cassie was sleeping in her dressing room during the time of the murder. It wasn't until Michael tripped over a haphazardly laid object that he and Eliza found something worthwhile. It was a discarded bag.

“I'm guessing this must be Cassie’s,” said Eliza. She picked up the bag after helping Michael to his feet. She unzipped it.

“Really?”

“You were thinking the same thing.” He might have, but it wasn't like he was going to actually search Carrie’s private bag. “Hey, check this out.” From the bag, Eliza pulled out a card. It didn’t look like a credit card to Michael. The words GLOBAL STUDIO ACCESS were printed on one side in thick block letters. Underneath in smaller, silver numbers was an ID number and a bar code.

“Assuming that this is Cassie’s, I’m going to guess that is one of the access cards used to get into places around here,” Michael said. Eliza dropped the bag on a nearby couch.

“I’m taking it,” she said.

“What’s up with you and taking things today?” Eliza gave him a little shrug as they left the dressing room, making a beeline for Studio One.

* * *

**October 16, 2016**

**11:48 AM**

**Global Studios**

**Studio One**

 

Michael was quiet as he entered the studio. It was strange. The building itself was entirely empty compared to the rest of Global Studios. He stared down at the white tape outline on the floor. He could picture a real body there.

“You’re real quiet all of a sudden,” Eliza said, giving Michael as small nudge. “Gives you the shivers, doesn’t it? That white tape. It’s just so… so real!”

“Well, the Evil Magistrate did die here,” Michael replied. “And the Iron Maiden allegedly killed him. The murder weapon as the Samurai Spear so… Yeah. It’s pretty real. Anyway, we should start looking ar—" For the second time that day, Michael felt himself attacked by an inanimate object. He collided with something, sending it crashing to the floor and himself stumbling backwards.

“Michael!” called out Eliza. Michael rubbed his nose. “Are you okay? You just walked into a ladder.” Michael looked down at the ladder on a floor.

“Yeah, I'm fine. And it's a stepladder, not a ladder.”

“What's the difference?”

“I don't know. It's just a stepladder, not ladder!”

“Same thing.”

“No, it's not.”

_ This girl is out there! _

“To-may-to, to-mah-to,” Eliza said, giving Michael a wave of her hand as she picked up the ladder. “Either way, we're lucky it didn't hit this camera.” Eliza had a hand hovering over the piece of film equipment when someone called out for her not to touch it. A young man scurried towards the two. Michael thought they were the only ones there.

“Sorry,” he said to the newcomer, “My partner is kind of… eccentric.” Michael ignored the look Eliza was giving him. “We thought this place was empty. Uh… who are you?”

“Who? Me?” Michael nodded. “I'm an actor here. I play the lead. I'm Mark Anthony.” Michael felt his fan credit shrink a little. “Can I ask what you're doing here?”

“We're the lawyers representing Cassie Ferguson,” Eliza explained.

“Oh. I don't envy you guys one bit.” That lowered their confidence. “But… do what you can for her, okay? Ask anyone around here. We all know that Cassie wouldn't hurt a fly. She has to be innocent!”

“Don't worry, leave it to us!”

“If you want to help Cassie,” said Michael to Mark, “can I ask you a few questions? Like… could you tell me anything you remember about the day of the murder?” Mark gave Michael a nod. Finally, someone was being cooperative.

“I was in the studio all day,” Mark told them. “Yesterday was only rehearsal for our action sequences. In the morning, we went through them in the employee area. Cassie and Mr. Kelly were both there, along with everyone else.”

“The employee area… that's where the dressing rooms are, right?”

“Yeah. That's it. We ate lunch there, and Mr. Kelly went to Studio One after. I saw Cassie heading into her dressing room. No one saw either of them after that until we found Mr. Kelly’s body.” Well, that portion of the story matched up with Cassie’s tale.

“Cassie told us she was asleep in her room at the time of the murder. Did you know this?” Mark turned a deep shade of pink.

“No!” he exclaimed, flustered. “I wouldn't him on there unless I had to! I mean… it's her private… What kind of guy do you think I am?!”

“N-No! I'm sure you're a fine person. Sorry for asking.”

_ So much for getting a confirmation of Cassie’s alibi. _

This was a bust. Michael and Eliza hadn’t found anything, and apparently Cassie was the only one who came to the studio according to photographic evidence. Nothing they had found could prove her innocence.

“Are you sure that Cassie didn’t leave her dressing room?” Michael’s only response was a shrug.

“Sorry. I know you’re busy,” said Mark.

“No, not really.”

“Actually…” Michael perked up. “There has been something that’s bothering me.”

“Yes!” Eliza cheered, bouncing on the tips of her toes. “Finally. A clue! A lead!” She was reading Michael’s mind.

“Well, I don’t know about something like that,” continued Mark, “But that day, just after noon, I did feel like someone was here…” Michael raised a brow.

“You felt like someone was here?” he repeated. Mark nodded.

“Yeah. Several times. Like someone was watching me.”

“Maybe they were some studio employees?” Mark shook his head.

“I don’t think so. The only thing we had scheduled was an action scene run-through. The only people who needed to be there were at that. I feel like it was someone from the outside or something.”

“But wait,” said Eliza, cutting in. “If someone came in here, wouldn’t that security lady notice them?” Eliza had a valid point.

“You’re right,” muttered Michael. This might actually have been a good lead. Michael and Eliza thanked Mark for the information he had given them. They sped off to the main gate to have a little chat with the guard on duty.

* * *

 

**October 16, 2016**

**12:11 AM**

**Global Studios**

**Main Gate**

 

The security guard was not in a good mood when the attorney and his assistant returned to her post.

“I wanted to ask you again about yesterday,” said Michael after the guard accused them of being suspicious. “You came here at 1:00 PM, correct?” The woman nodded. “The estimated time of Kelly’s death was 2:30. Are you positive that Cassie was the only person to pass through here between those times?

“Sure as can be!”

“But, don’t we have a witness who thinks, and I quote, ‘someone from the outside’ was here that day?” Eliza asked Michael. He had to hand it to her, Eliza’s acting was spot on. It got a perfect reaction from the security guard.

“What?!” she yelled. Eliza nodded.

“Are you absolutely sure you were here watching the whole time?” The security guard was quiet. “Ma’am?”

“Who was it? Who told you that? Who dares question me?!” The woman’s voice was full of fury. Eliza took a small step behind Michael. “You better tell me and quick! Someone’s complaining about the work I do?!”

“Uh… Um… we were just talking to the actor who plays the Steel Samurai in Studio One.”

“Him! All you young'uns are like that nowadays, running your mouths like there was no tomorrow saying this that and the other thing. Well when I was young let me tell you we knew a thing or two about respecting our elders. Back then we did and it's a crying shame that you youths today just say what you please about poor ladies.” 

Michael had never seen a woman that age dash off so fast and so furious. This was their chance to get a look at the security station without her doing anything to stop them. 

Michael entered the small space, walking over to the computer that displayed the security footage.

“Michael,” said Eliza as she leaned over his shoulder. “Maybe we can find that picture of Cassie.”

“Good idea.” Michael switched the feeds over to the saved files. “Let’s give it a try.”

“You know how these things work, Michael?”

“You’d be surprised at some of the things I know.” The screen asked him to input the date for the files he wanted to retrieve. Michael quickly put in the date of the murder.

_ It looks like the camera turned on at 1:00 PM that day... 1:00... That was when the security lady arrived at the guard station. _

With a few tries, Michael managed to pull up the pictures from the right security camera.  There was only one from the day of the murder. Michael printed out the picture. He switched the screen back to the camera feeds to cover up his tracks. Eliza picked up the picture as it finished printing.

“Um… Michael?” she said. “You might want to take a look at this.” Eliza handed the picture to Michael. He stared down at it. 

“Really?” Instead of Cassie being in the photo like both the security guard and Detective Tiggular claimed, the image Michael had just printed out was a picture of the Iron Maiden, or rather, someone wearing the costume. “How is this a picture of Cassie Ferguson?”

“Well, she is the one who normally wears the suit, right?” Michael nodded, running a hand through his hair.

“I guess that’s why the security lady thought it was her.” Michael and Eliza left the security booth. They made their way out of Global Studios.

“I don’t imagine that detective being very happy with this evidence. You can easily tear him apart in court because of it.” Michael wasn’t going to deny that Eliza was right. He folded the photo in half. Orange letters on the back caught his eye.

“Eliza, take a look at this.” He ushered her closer and showed her what was written: OCT 15, 2:00 PM, PHOTO #2

“What does that mean? Photo #2?” She and Michael got closer to the parking lot.

“Maybe there’s more photo data from that day?” Michael guessed. He tucked the picture away into his back pocket. Eliza shook her head.

“Nope. You saw the files just as I did. There was just the one image on the computer from yesterday.” She smiled. “Like I said, we could probably use it court to put that security lady in her place.”

“Right,” Michael said. “We’ll put her in her place.”

“That’s what I just said. Why don’t we show her the photo and see what she says?”

“Ye— wait. Let’s not.” Michael really didn’t want to have to talk to that woman again unless he had to. “It’s never a good idea to reveal your hand to the enemy too soon.” He pulled out the keys to his car as he and Eliza got closer to it. With a small beep, the car unlocked.

“Michael, you’re craftier than I give you credit for. Maybe you could be the next… um… Evil Magistrate?” She opened the passenger side door and slid inside.

“Yeah, that’s… Hey!” Michael took his spot as the driver, slamming the door closed behind him. “Why do I have to be the villain?”

“Relax, it was just a joke,” Eliza laughed. It wasn’t too funny to Michael. He stuck his keys into the ignition, pulling his seat belt over his chest. “So, what now?”

“I think we get ready for tomorrow.” Michael could feel the picture still in his pocket. “I think that photo is just what we needed.” He sighed. “Still. It would be better if we had some idea who the real killer was.”

“Maybe it’s the security lady?” Michael shrugged as he backed out of the parking lot of Global Studios. That woman’s alibi wasn’t completely solid either as far as Michael could see.

“Yeah. Maybe.”


	8. The State v. Cassidy Ferguson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassie's trial begins with Michael stuck upriver without a paddle. Pressing and presenting is his only defense against decisive evidence as he faces Jeremy in court once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy holidays, everyone

**October 18, 2016**

**10:00 AM**

**District Court**

**Courtroom No. 3**

 

There was the bang of the gavel to start the trial of Cassidy Ferguson. Once again, Michael found himself staring at a pair of familiar blue eyes. Michael should have read the case file more thoroughly. It had only been over a month, and now he was facing Jeremy Heere in court again.

“The prosecution will show the court that at 2:30 PM on October 15, the defendant, Ms. Cassidy ‘Cassie’ Ferguson, killed her fellow actor Charlie Kelly at Studio One of Global Studios,” said Jeremy as he opened the case to the courtroom and all that were there. “It is impossible for anyone else to have committed this heinous act. The evidence presented during the trial will all point to this fact.”

“I see…” said the Judge. “Very well. The prosecution may call its first witness.”

“I would like to call a familiar face to the stand. Detective Fiyero Tiggular.” Michael watched the raggedy detective hop up onto the stand. “Detective, if you could describe the case more in detail to the court?”

“Yes, sir!” said Detective Tiggular with a nod. He pulled out a map of the studios from inside his coat. Michael had a copy of this as well, along with the judge and the prosecution. “This is the Employee Area here.” Tiggular gestured to the area on his own map, using his finger as a guide. “The actors did a run-through of their action scenes during the morning here. This is the main gate to the studios. The security lady that works at the studios was here at 1:00 PM on that day. 

“Pass the security station is a gate. Past that are the studios. It was here at Studio One where the body was found. Now on October 15, the day of the murder, there were only three people here. The victim, Charlie Kelly, the defendant, Cassie Ferguson, and a young man, another actor. All the production staff and the actors were in the Employee Area until noon. 

“Then, sometime after lunch, the victim went to Studio One. Right after that, at 1:00, the security lady got to the guard station. Jump ahead to 5:00. The production staff comes down to Studio One for rehearsal. Needless to say, the rehearsal was cancelled. The time of death was 2:30. The ‘Samurai Spear’ was found lodged into the victim chest and declared the murder weapon. So, that’s what we know so far.”

_ I think I can probably remember that…  I hope. _

“Your Honor, the case is quite simple if you was one little question,” said Jeremy. “The question is ‘what did the security lady at the guard station see’?”

“Understood.”

“Let’s call this security officer to the stand.” Eliza switched to what side of the bench she was standing on just to get farther away from the security woman as she took to the stand in place of Detective Tiggular. 

_ I’d rather have Tiggular up there to be honest _ .

“Will the witness declare her name?” Jeremy asked the woman.

“... my aren’t you a handsome fellow!” said the woman. “I’m afraid I’m a bit flustered.” Apparently she wasn’t the only one. Jeremy’s face was a faint shade of red. 

“Y-Your name please!”

“Oh, no need for you to be so embarrassed!” Jeremy slammed his hands down on the bench.

“Your name,  _ please _ !”

S _ eems Jeremy has a bit of trouble getting his witnesses to say their names… It's kind of entertaining actually. _

Michael was surprised that it took Jeremy another two minutes to get the witness to tell her name to the court. Eliza joined him in hiding small hints of subtle laughter.

“Pauline Fleming,” said the security woman. “You can just call me grandma, though. It's practically my name! Even when I was young I looked so old. Still how the other children would make fun of me can you believe it? But there was this boy, the captain of the chess club in junior high, and when he called me a grandma as well I just cried and cried because I had a crush on him you see—”

“O-OBJECTION!” Jeremy shouted, cutting off the woman’s mounting rant. “I… I object to the witness’s talkativeness.”

“Objection sustained,” ruled the Judge. “The witness with refrain from rambling on the stand.”

“Can we get onto the testimony?” And on to the testimony they went. After confirming the security's claims to being the at guard station, Fleming began her testimony.

“On the day of the murder, I arrived at the guard station at 1:00 PM. Poor old Charlie and the rest had been doing a run-through there since the morning. I, well… I had some errands to run that morning,” she testified, “Anyway, it was 1:00 when I got to the guard station. I was at the main gate from then until 5:00! Now, the murder happened at 2:30 PM, right? Interesting to me, because a certain woman walked right by me at 2:00 PM. It was Cassie Ferguson! That woman right there, and she was heading toward the studio!”

“You saw the defendant, then?” asked the Judge. Fleming nodded. “Very well. Let’s bring the cross-examination.” Michael leaned up on the bench, allowing the testimony to replay in his head. He knew what he needed to pull out. After all he and Eliza had a copy of the photo that showed “Cassie” walking past the camera.

“Let me get this straight, Ms. Fleming,” said Michael as he pulled the picture out of his case file. “You’ve been saying that you ‘saw Ms. Ferguson’ yesterday, correct?” Fleming nodded. Michael showed the picture to the court. “Are you talking about this person in this photo? Because this doesn’t look like Cassie Ferguson to me!”

“Just a minute, Mr. Mell. Let me see that photo.” Michael gave the picture over to the Judge, who gave a cursory glance before giving it back .”What is that exactly?”

“None other than the Iron Maiden, cohort of the defender of Neo Olde Tokyo. Ms. Fleming!” Michael turned to the witness. “Is this the ‘Ms. Ferguson’ that you saw?”

“Of course,” said the security guard as if the answer was obvious. “Didn’t your mother teach you any sense? Anyone can plainly see that’s Cassie… right?” Jeremy was a loss for words. He was muttering a loosely threaded sentence over by the prosecutor's bench.

“Well, yes, it is true that Ms. Ferguson plays the role of the Iron Maiden, btu that does not mean Ms. Ferguson  _ is _ the Iron Maiden!

“I… I know that!” Her reaction to the bit of information told otherwise. “I wasn’t born yesterday!”

“No one in this court is accusing you of that, miss,” sad the Judge before Fleming could go on another tirade. “However, you do not have proof that the person in this photo is Ms. Cassie Ferguson, do you?”

“Of course I have proof!” Both the defense and the prosecution have their own shouts of shock.

“What?!

“Huh?!”

_ Even Jeremy is surprised!? _

“The prosecution would like to ask the witness to please make known all the information you have  _ ahead of time _ ,” said Jeremy, still a bit stunned.

“How was I going to know that everyone would be so prying? You should be ashamed of yourselves,” said Fleming before giving a shrug. “Anyway, I showed that photo to the young detective. He told me that it was good as any evidence. He didn’t even bother to give it a second look!” Out of the corner of his eye, Michael caught Detective Tiggular making a slow movement for the door. Jeremy’s face was a shade away from turning pink. He was glaring daggers at the detective and at the witness.

_ Wow, the old windbag has left even Jeremy speechless. She's good! Maybe I should ask her to teach me. Wait, no. Michael. Focus. _

“I never say anything I don’t mean, mid you!” said Fleming after being forced to testify again, “That morning, during the run-through of the action scene… I saw Cassie trip and fall! She broke one of the props, it was a big mess. Apparently, she sprained her ankle pretty bad. Now, look at that picture! You can see she's dragging her leg! See? Clear as day! That's how I knew it was Cassie. Happy?” The Judge gave Michael the signal to start his cross-examination.

_ She's got to be hiding something... I'll press her until she squeals. _

“Who was present at the run-through?” Michael asked her.

“Well, let's see…” said the woman. “There was Cassie, Mark Anthony—he's the Steel Samurai… Then poor old Charlie Kelly—the Evil Magistrate… and… and me.”

“What were you doing at the run-through?”

“Observing!” That had been answered far too quickly. “Just… observing.”

“Observing?” whispered Eliza as she leaned up against the bench. “Kinda how you look at  _ him _ when he’s talking? That kind of observing?” Michael glanced over at his co-counsel.

“What are you implying?” he said, just as hushed as she was.

“You stare at Prosecutor Heere a lot.” Michael’s face turned darker.

_ Do I…?  God, I think I do. I hope no one noticed. _

“Um…” said the attorney once he collected himself, “You saw the defendant ‘trip and fall’?”

“Yes!” continued Fleming. “And to think, she’s supposed to be the Iron Maiden. It’s quite a laugh. Anyway, like I said, Cassie sprained her ankle in the fall. I helped make it better, of course. I kissed it where it

hurts!”

_ I… I really don't want to know what she means by that…  _

“And she broke a prop when this happened, right?”

“She sure did. When she tripped, Cassie crashed right into Mark Anthony, our Steel Samurai. The collision sent them right into the Samurai Spear and caused it to snap right in half.”

_ The Samurai Spear… the murder weapon!? _

“I managed to temporarily fix it with a spare roll of duct tape that was lying around.”

_ This strikes me as a significant detail…  _ Michael scribbled the note down into his case file.

“I think we’ve heard enough” Michael’s head snapped up as Jeremy spoke. “Haven’t we, Your Honor?”

“Well… there is one thing that bothers me…” said the Judge. “Where is this ‘Iron Maiden’ costume now?” Jeremy avoided looking towards His Honor.

“Um… Actually, well… we couldn’t find it. We’re still looking.” He shook his head. “Anyway, that’s not what’s important here. The witness did see the Iron Maiden. It is clear that the person in the Iron Maiden suit was Cassie Ferguson.”

“I suppose you're right.” Michael brought his fist down on the bench.

“HOLD IT!” he shouted. “We keep talking about possibilities, but you have to agree with me of something. The photo shows the Iron Maiden. Nowhere in this picture can we see Cassie Ferguson!

“Hmm… the Defense has a point.” A smirk grew on Michael’s face. Jeremy stared at him. “I wonder if someone else not caught on camera could have killed Mr. Kelly. We have to consider that.”

“Allow me the remove the doubt from your head, Your Honor,” said Jeremy. “Will the witness continue her testimony?”

“No need to ask twice,” said the security guard. “The time of poor Mr. Kelly’s death was 2:30, true?” The prosecution nodded. “The only person I saw go to the studio before then was Cassidy Ferguson. No one else went in there. If they had, I would have caught them in the act!” Michael stared down at his case file. He picked up the photo he and Eliza had swiped yesterday. The words on the back looked back at him.

“Wait, hold on!” said Michael, leaning up on the bench. He held up the photo. “This was taken by the camera at the studio gate, correct?”

“Yessiree.”

“So… whenever someone passes by, it automatically takes a picture.”

“Yes. And here I thought you didn’t know your head from a hole in the ground.” Michael could hear a laugh from beside him and across from him.

“Anyway… it’s also true that the computer in the guard action records all security camera data, isn’t that so?”

“What are you getting at, Mell?” said Jeremy. He looked as confused as the rest of the court.

“The computer that holds all the security data printed out this photo. On the back are the printed words: Oct 15, 2:00 PM, Photo #2. This is where the issue is. See this bit at the end here? It says Photo #2.” He could see the witness’s eyes start to dart around the room. “The computer only held data for one photo that day. If this really was the only photo, shouldn’t it say Photo #1?” The court erupted into chatter. “This evidence shows that not one, but two people had entered the studio that day. Yet there is only data for  _ one _ photo! Who could have erased the data of this picture? The only person who has access to do this is the security lady herself!”

“You watch your mouth!” snapped the witness. “The only person I saw that day was Cassidy Ferguson!”

“The camera on the gate fired twice! That means two people went by!”

“Umm… well, yes… that’s what it would mean…” Fleming swallowed something. “I-I don’t understand these computer things. Um… Uh… J-Jerry-boy! Help!” Michael could see the look on Jeremy’s face. He was red, running his hands through his hair.

“B-Believe me, I want to, but…” Jeremy made eye contact with Michael. “I don't know what these means, either.”

“Some help you are. Just like the defense. A young upstart who thinks he can…” She stopped in the middle of her sentence. Fleming stared blankly at nothing in the courtroom

“Something the matter, Ms. Fleming?” asked the Judge. The witness came to her senses.

“I… I remember,” she said. “Every day, after I finish my guard duties, I have one other job to do. I go through the photos recorded on the security computer and check them. I delete any photos that aren’t suspicious looking. The day of the murder, I did the exact same thing.”

Jeremy dragged his hands down his face.

“Th-This is the first I’ve heard of this!” he protested when the Judge gave him a dirty look.

“Of course I didn’t tell you. I only just remembered it.” Eliza sighed from her place besides Michael. Michael could understand what was going through her head. It was going through his as well.

_ This woman is impossible _ …

“Who the heck was in the photo you erased?!” Michael asked, picking up where he had left off.

“A fan,” Fleming simply replied.

“A fan…?”

“Yes. Steel Samurai fans. Real freaks, if you ask me. They get information about the rehearsals from gosh-knows-where. They're always hanging about. One was there that day.” Michael stared at her.

“W-Wait a second. Didn’t you say that no one else could get in?!”

“Well… there is a drain that goes into the Employee Area. The grate has been loose for a while. It leads outside. That’s where they come in. And… they’re kids. Children. It makes it easier for them to get in that way.”

“K-Kids?!” Michael repeated. “So that photo you erased…”

“It was a kid. Somewhere around fourth or fifth grade. I couldn’t tell what gender they were.”

“What?!” said both lawyers in unison. The gallery had the same reaction as Michael and Jeremy.

“Let me get this straight,” said the Judge once everyone had calmed down. “You saw two people pass by the gate on their way to the studios that day? One was the Iron Maiden, dragging her leg. The other was a child who looked to be in about fourth or fifth grade?” Fleming nodded to confirm the statement.

“A child?” Jeremy repeated, running his hands through his hair. “I assume it would be hard, if not unlikely, for someone that young to wield the Samurai Spear.”

“Impossible, I’d think. It’s quite heavy. Thing weighs about thirty-three pounds!”

_ If it’s so heavy, how the hell did Cassie and Mark break it…? … I think I answered my own question. _

“Uh… Michael,” said Eliza, giving the defense lawyer a nudge. “What’s going on? The kid was there. That makes them a suspect.”

“Yeah, and their already trying to ‘un-suspect’ ‘em.” Michael muttered, staring at Jeremy from across the room. 

The Judge called for a short recess, giving the chance from the defense and the prosecution to reconstruct their cases with the information they were given. Hopefully, Michael could build something solid enough to save Cassie.

* * *

 

**October 18, 2016**

**11:08 AM**

**District Court**

**Defendant Lobby No. 3**

Cassie had been brought into the defendant’s lobby. She was sitting on the sofa. She looked like she was resisting the urge to curl up into a ball right then and there. Michael looked down at her foot. Fleming had been right about the actress’s injury; Cassie’s right ankle was stuck in a brace. It was a miracle that she wasn't on crutches.

“Cassie, were you really in your dressing room?” Michael asked, looking up at her. “You didn’t go into the studio?”

“No!” Cassie said, shaking her head. “I was sleeping in my room. I promise.”

“So…” said Eliza, absentmindedly fidgeting with the ring around her finger, “Who was the Iron Maiden in the photo then?” Cassie shrugged.

“I don’t know. The costume was in the corner of my dressing room. There’s a lock on my door, but I was so tired… I didn’t lock it. Anyone could have come and taken it, really.”

_ That… That’s just… _

“You really should take better care of your stuff, Cassie.”

_ Took the words right out of my mouth _ .

“I couldn’t imagine that anyone would want to steal my costume! I mean… people have stolen small things from me like lipstick and pens before, but never my costume!” Cassie sniffed. 

“This doesn’t look good,” Michael muttered, expressing his thoughts out loud. “You’re the only likely suspect right now, Cassie.” The outcome was looking grim.

“Michael,” said Eliza. “What are we going to do?”

“We have to buy more time.” It seemed like the only logical thing to do. “We could… We have to bring up someone who could be considered a suspect. It’ll take Jeremy so long to shoot us down, they'll have to extend the trial to tomorrow.”

“Right… But… Michael, if we pick the wrong person, we may lose today.”

“You…” said Cassie, who at the moment was biting her nails, “You don’t sound very optimistic.”

_ That’s because I’m not _ .

The bailiff called into the room. Court was about to start up again.

“Okay. Let’s go.” Michael sighed, pushing back his hair.

“Wait, what does that mean?” Cassie said as she followed after Michael and Eliza. “Please don't sigh like that!”

* * *

 

**October 18, 2016**

**11:32 AM**

**District Court**

**Courtroom No. 3**

The trial started up again. Michael had no defense prepared. He only had an idea, and he wasn’t entire positive that he would be able to actually get to his goal.

_ Time to do what I do best. Wing it. _

“Nothing has changed,” said Jeremy when asked about his thoughts on the case. “The other person who went to the studios was a child of roughly ten years of age. The photo we do have may not be hard evidence... But there is still no one else that could have committed this crime! I call for a verdict of ‘guilty’.”

“The defense disagrees with the prosecution's claim,” Michael responded to the statement. “I believe that there  _ is _ another person who could have committed this crime.”

“Interesting…” muttered the Judge. “Let us hear who you have in mind! However... Be aware that this court does not look kindly on accusing the innocent. If you accuse someone who is obviously innocent, you will be penalized.”

_ Right. Great. As if the stakes weren't high enough. _

“So, who was this person other than Mr. Ferguson that could have committed murder?”

_ It can’t be Cassie. Mark Anthony has an alibi, as does the rest of the staff. And that kid… we already know they couldn’t have picked up the spear. Gah. There had to be one person who doesn’t have an alibi! Who was alone at the time of the murder?! _ Michael looked around the courtroom. His eyes fell on the witness stand.  _ Oh. Oh! _

“It was the security lady!” Michael said, pointing a finger to the witness. “Pauline Fleming!”

“Wh-What?!”

“The Iron Maiden was dragging her leg in this picture. Whomever was in the suit knew about her injury. That means they had been watching the action scene run-through to get the information correct. If you take a look at my client, you can see the brace as proof that she did hurt herself. It matches with the leg the Iron Maiden is dragging in this picture. There was only one other person other than Ms. Ferguson, Mark Anthony and Charlie Kelly who knew about this. It was the security lady, Fleming!” The court erupted into noise.

“I-Is this true?” shuttered the Judge when all was calm again. Fleming said nothing.

“Ms. Fleming was standing guard alone at the main gate,” Michael continued on, “She was by herself. No one else saw her. She has no alibi! She could have briefly let her post to steal the Iron Maiden costume, slip into Studio One and commit the murder!”

“Wh-Why would she go through the trouble of wearing the Iron Maiden costume?”

“Simple, Your Honor. The camera at the gate would take her picture. If she was in the costume, she could easily point the finger at Ms. Ferguson!”

“I see. Excellent deductive reasoning Mr. Mell.” Eliza high-fived him.

_ Ohhh yeah, right here! Sherlock Holmes II, baby! ...?  _ Michael caught sight of Jeremy. He was standing perfectly still, not looking to anyone in the courtroom. _ That's odd. Isn't this the part where Jeremy pounces...? Doesn't he usually jump up with an objection and some new damning evidence...? _

“The…” said Jeremy. He picked his head up. He and Michael met each other’s gaze. “The prosecution has no objections on this matter.”

“Wh-What?!” shouted Fleming. “What’s the supposed to mean?! Oh, so you think I did it? Jerry-boy! Don't just sit there, do something!” Jeremy didn’t say a word. He just looked at the ground.

_ What's my move? Maybe now's my chance to take this the whole way? _

“The very same reasoning that makes Ms. Ferguson a suspect in this case can be used to cast doubt on Ms. Fleming’s actions that day,” Michael concluded.

“B-But why would I do something horrible to Charlie Kelly?! I don’t have a reason to hurt him!”

“You forget that Ms. Ferguson lacks a motive, too.”

“Indeed,” said the Judge, nodding with agreement.

_ That did it. Now the old’ windbag is one of the suspects. No hard feelings... I hope. _

“Wait just a minute!” said Fleming, leaping to her own defense. “What about the other person who went into the studio?! The kid! The one whose photo I erased!”

“They’re only an elementary school student, as you said. They couldn’t lift the murder weapon.”

“That doesn’t matter! When I was that age, I could pin down my old man in ten seconds!” Before Michael could counteract this, Jeremy brought his hands down on the bench.

“That child is not a killer,” he said, firmly. He kept narrowed eyes on the witness.

“How can you be sure?! Or it is ‘Be-Nice-To-The-Kids-And-Mean-To-Your-Elders’ day?!” Michael straightened up, shoving his hands into his pocket. The keycard for Studio One was still sitting in his jacket.

“I have proof,” Michael said. “The scene of the murder as Studio One. You need a cardkey to enter there! How could a child with no relation to the studios have a cardkey?!” Fleming only emitted a low growl in response.

_ The windbag… speechless. This has got to be a first. _

“The court will suspend proceedings on the trial for today,” said the Judge. Michael sighed in relief. He silently thanked whatever divine being was listening. “The prosecution will look further into this woman before we continue. That is all. Court is adjourned!” Before the Judge could bring down his gavel, Fleming shouted out.

“Wait a second!” she yelled. “I’m not going to sit here while you bark up the wrong tree! I… I would like 

to continue my testimony! There is something I was told not to talk about.” Michael’s eyes widened.

“N-Not talk about?” he repeated.

“By who?!” said Jeremy, looking as shocked as Michael.

_ Huh? It wasn't Jeremy who told her not to talk...? Well, that’s interesting. _

“Global Studios wanted me to keep quiet about something,” said Fleming. “There were some other people at the studios on the day of the murder. They said they had nothing to do with. So, they told the staff to pretend they hadn’t been at the studios that day. But if you’re going to go accusing me, I’m not letting them get away scot free!”

“M-Ms. Fleming! This is crucial information! Why did you keep this from the court until now!?” demanded the Judge.

“Haven’t you been listening? They told me to shut your trap. I always do what I’m told.” The Judge looked as exasperated as both the prosecution and the defense.

_ No, this isn't a bad dream, Your Honor. Witness the power of the Fleming… _

“So, you were told not to talk?” Michael asked the witness. She nodded.

“That’s right. By the studio bigwigs, no less!”

“Why didn’t I hear about this?!” asked Jeremy, digging his fingers into the bench.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. We were all in on it.” Jeremy groaned. Michael did not want to be in his position right now.

“So, they were actually in the studio?” Michael said, continuing on with his cross-examination.

“Yes, the whole day,” said Fleming. “When they heard about the murder, they beat it before the cops came.” Jeremy grumbled something Michael couldn't make out.

_ I feel sorry for Jeremy. She really left him hanging on this one. _

“So, who were these people?”

“Well, the director and the producers for starters…”

“The… director.”

“Yes. I’m surprised no one asked why I didn’t mention him before.”

_ I’m kinda surprised myself _ .

“So, where were these people?”

“The director was in the employee area all morning for the run-through. He joined the producer around lunchtime, and they had a meeting after that.”

“Where?” Jeremy demanded to know, taking the words right out of Michael’s mouth.

“The Studio Two trailer.” Michael stared at her.

“St-Studio two?!” he repeated.

_ There was a Studio Two...?! _

“Well, you’re the one who took the guide map yesterday.” Michael glanced over at Eliza, who was avoiding looking at him in turn. “You just go through the gate and all the way to the left.” 

The Judge asked Michael whether or not he wanted to continue his cross-examination.

_ I think I've already asked all my questions, but… _

“Your Honor,” did Michael after denying the need for further cross-examination. “We’ve learned that there were other people at Global Studios on the day of the murder. Yet, as we stand here, none of them have been questioned. I hold that it is impossible to declare a verdict on Ms. Ferguson!” There was a stale feeling hanging in the air.

“The court acknowledges the defense's point.” Michael released a breath he didn’t even realize he had been holding. “The prosecution will gather more information about the witness, Ms. Fleming… and more information about these other people we have just been told of!”

“... I understand, Your Honor,” said Jeremy. If Michael didn’t know any better, Jeremy looked just as relieved as he did.

“This ends the day's proceedings in the trial of Ms. Cassidy Ferguson. That is all. The court is adjourned!”

* * *

 

**October 18, 2016**

**1:04 PM**

**District Court**

**Defendant Lobby No. 3**

Cassie was acting like they had already won the trial.

“Th-Thank you so much, Mr. Mell!” Cassie said when she ran into the lawyer in the defendant’s lobby. “I was right to ask you to defend me.”

“It’s nothing,” said Eliza, provided a warm, reassuring grin. She turned to Michael. “So… have we figured out who was it in the costume?” Michael shrugged.

“Cassie?” he said. “Any ideas?” The actress shook her head.

“No. I don’t think it was Ms. Fleming. It couldn’t have been.”

“Neither do I, Michael.” Michael suck his hands into his pockets. “That was kinda shocking you pointed the finger at her.”

“Look, I was just buying time for us there,” he said, trying to defend his actions. “Someone had to be the bad guy to take the pressure off Cassie.”

“Poor old windbag… I feel kinda sorry for her.”

“Well, she wasn't winning any points in there, with or without my accusation. Okay, let's get down to the studios.” The bailiff called for Cassie. 

“Th-Thanks… thank you…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if anyone can feel that change in our prosecutor's personality, you can probably figure out why from the last chapter. Anyway, I apologize if this arc isn't as good as the last one or the next. Turnabout Samurai isn't one of my favorite cases (it's good, believe me, i just feel kinda neutral to it, but it's still one of my least favorite cases in the game next to Rise From The Ashes... though that's mostly because of the length of it...) and I had some trouble writing it. So, I apologize in advance if it's not good as the rest of the story is.


	9. Studio Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day two of investigating begins. Michael and Eliza discover that the entertainment industry is run by some very strange people. Nothing goes normal. Then again, when is anything ever normal?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we welcome you back to your regular scheduled updating.

**October 18, 2016**

**2:35 PM**

**Global Studios**

**Employee Area**

 

Michael was never happier to not see someone. With Fleming under police custody, it was much easier for him and Eliza to gain entry into the studio. The Employee Area was empty, leaving Michael and Eliza to investigate themselves. Or at least that’s what they wanted to do.

“Who are you?”

Both Michael and Eliza whipped around. They had barely even started before getting caught. At least they had a little bit of time to search before being caught last time in Studio One. Behind them was an agitated looking man with salt-and-peppered hair with thinly rimmed glasses.

“We… wait,” said Eliza. “Just who are you? You look kinda of suspicious to me.”

“You mean more suspicious then you?” Eliza opened her mouth to reply, but closed it. He was right. “Unlike you, I belong here. I’m Zach Douglas. The director.” Michael felt a spark of childlike innocence.

“R-Really?” he said, trying not to sound as enthusiastic as he was now. “You’re _the_ Zach Douglas? The one who made the _Steel Samurai_?” The man before them nodded. “It’s just… you look so…”

“It’s quite alright,” said Zach. “Really. It’s fine.” He stared at the pair in front of him. “You know.. on closer inspection… you look familiar.”

“Well, we _are_ Cassie’s lawyers,” said Michael.

“Cassie? You’re her lawyers?”

“Yeah.”

“Is she alright?” Michael shrugged.

“She seemed fine. I mean, she’s not on crutches, so I assume her sprain isn’t that bad. Uh…”

“That’s not what I meant. Is she fine? Emotionally. I saw her at the trial.”

_He went to the trial…?_

“Well…” Michael and Eliza exchanged a look with one another.

“She seemed okay when we talked to her before the police took her back to the detention center,” Eliza said with a shrug. “She was happier than when the trial started at least.”

_Is it just me or does Zach look relieved?_

“Um… anyway,” said Michael. “Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?”

“Isn’t that usually the police’s job?” Michael’s stare gave him a good enough answer. He sighed. “Fine. Fire away.”

_Hopefully we get something out of this._

“Did you notice anything unusual on the day of the murder?” Michael asked, starting his line of questioning.

“It was a pretty regular day,” said Zach with a shrug. “We had a run-through of an action scene that morning. Then I had to go to a meeting with our producer in the Studio Two trailer. I didn’t even get the chance to eat lunch.”

“It was a steak, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

_Mr. Kelly's time of death was estimated at 2:30 PM. If he's telling the truth, that meeting gives him an alibi…_

“You said the at the producer was in the meeting with you?” Michael questioned. He remembers the security guard mentioning something about the producer in her testimony. Zach nodded.

“Her name is Velma Kelly. She’s a genius,” Zach replied. “Scary though. She even terrifies me. She brought these studios back from the brink of destruction.”

“You had a meeting with her on the day of the murder, right?”

“Yeah. Like I said, from noon to four. The network boss, the sponsors, a few production guys were also there. I can give you their names. They can confirm it.”

“They were with you the entire time?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

 _Hmm... sounds like they'd all be reliable witnesses. Hold up a second. Rewind. Did he say Velma_ Kelly _?_

“I’m sorry, but did you say the producer’s name was Velma _Kelly_ ?” said Michael. “Like.. Charlie _Kelly_? The victim?”

“Yeah,” said Zach as through the answer was obvious. “Why?” Michael and Eliza both looked at each other.

“Ms. Fleming told us that Mr. Kelly married a dancer,” said Eliza, skeptical.

“And she’s right. Mrs. Kelly was a dancer before she got married. Now she's the producer. She was a pretty good dancer, too. She took her work seriously. I think she still practices the same exercise regiment, too. She’s pretty strong because of it.”

_That's a little strange. Why would she just give up on dancing like that?_

* * *

  **October 18, 2016**

**2:59 PM**

**Studio Two Entrance**

 

“This is… Studio Two?”

“Yeah. According to the map and Zach, anyway.”

“It really doesn't look much like a studio, does it?”

“No. No, Eliza. It does not.”

Zach had given the pair directions to Studio Two after their conversation. Michael found that the studio looked nothing at all like Studio One. Trash was littered on the ground and paint was chipping off of the walls. The place look abandoned.

“Well… maybe it's still in use,” said Eliza as Michael tucked the map away. “Look there's a trailer over there.” She pointed to a short, brown building at the other end of the lot. Crisscrossed fencing was plated around where the wheels should have been. The steps leading up to the door seemed permanent, too.

“It look pretty sturdy for a movie set trailer,” Michael pointed out. Eliza sighed, crossing her arms.

“Are we sure this is a studio?” Michael looked around.

“Well, there is a van over there for moving staff and equipment around,” he said, gesturing over to the van beside them. “It looks like it would run fine, too.”

“Well, let's go for a drive!”

“Yeah… if it wasn’t going to get us into trouble.”

“Aren’t you the one who stole several pieces of evidence from crime scenes?” Michael could feel Eliza’s glare without having to even turn.

_Hey, those pieces of evidence got you and me off the hook._

“Borrowed, Eliza,” Michael said. “There’s a difference.”

“No,” said Eliza, shaking her head. “No, there’s not.” Michael looked around the studio lot. There had to be something nearby that could provide a change in topic.

“Uh… look over here!” He walked over to a small table near the trailer. Empty plates graced the top. One of them had a bone on it. “Looks like someone ate here. There’s no food left.”

“So, they ate steaks too?”

“I assume so.”

_What is it with steaks around here?_

“Hmm… something…” Eliza said before groaning. “Something seems out of place.”

“What?”

“I… don’t know. It just feels odd.” Michael looked over at the trailer. Between a wrought iron fence and the trailer was a small garden of flowers.

“Maybe it’s those flowers over there,” he suggested. “Hay fever?” Eliza shook her head. She got closer to the flower bed.

“No, but they are really beautiful. Someone must be taking good care of these.” Michael grabbed her sleeve to stop her from getting further. The sharp points of the fence winked at him.

“I wouldn’t get too close. The fence looks dangerous. Probably could kill a man.” Michael let go of her robe, taking one last glance around the studio.

_Huh… other than us, this place is deserted…_

A sudden and resounding crash echoing out from the trailer broke Michael’s train of thought. Eliza helped.

“Michael!” she said. “Wh-What was that?!”

“Don't know,” said Michael as went up to the trailer door. “Someone must be inside.” He knocked on the door. The answer was only silence. He tried the doorknob. It wouldn’t turn. “It’s locked.”

“What? Don’t we have a key?”

“No. We have a key _card_ . This requires an _actual_ key.” Michael thought about their predicament for a moment. “But! I’m willing to bet there’s probably one at the guard station. Let’s go borrow it!” He jogged down the steps, heading for the exit.

_If they'll let us…_

“Yeah,” said Eliza as she followed after him. “‘Borrow’.” Michael looked back at her.

“You were the one who took both the map and the keycard.”

“... Fair point.”

* * *

**October 18, 2016**

**3:12 PM**

**Global Studios**

**Main Gate**

 

Michael was greeted with the unwelcome presence of Ms. Fleming back at her guard station. The woman’s appearance had ended up scaring Eliza.

“You…” said Michael with a clear of his throat. “You certainly got back here quickly. I thought the police took you into custody…?”

“They did,” replied Fleming. “You know what they did? They pulled out a spare Iron Maiden costume! Told me to put it on. Can you imagine? How could I, a sweet little lady, wear a stuffy suit like that? I couldn't have worn it anyway! Cassie is abnormally taller and more athletically built than a woman like me. A _normal woman_. The suit was designed especially for her. Only Cassie or someone with her build could wear it!”

_That explains why she was so confident that the Iron Maiden in the photo was Cassie..._

“As soon as they saw there was wasn't a match to the photo, they let me go.”

_I guess that would rule out her being the murderer…_

“Anyway! Know this!” She got into Michael’s face. “This lady _never_ forgets a slight or insult! And you won't get any information out of me! My lips are sealed!”

“You sure talk a lot for someone with sealed lips…” Eliza muttered under her breath.

_This lady's too much…_

Michael hadn’t expected Ms. Fleming to be true to her word. Every time he or Eliza tried to question her about something, she would only get madder and madder. It was only when Michael had run out of questions and patience did they leave. There would have to be some other way of getting into the Studio Two trailer. 

* * *

**October 18, 2016**

**3:27 PM**

**Employee Area**

 

The lawyer and his cohort wandered around the studio in an attempt to look for more clues. On their way back to the scene of the crime, a blur of red collided with Eliza. By the time she got back on her feet, the blur came to a halt. To Michael’s surprise, the blur was a actually a girl in a red hoodie. There was a camera around her neck and a messenger bag crossed over her chest.

_I'll bet she came in right through that drain…_

“Um, hey kid,” said Eliza in the sweetest tone she could muster. “What’s your name?”

“I’m not a kid,” snapped the young girl. “Don’t talk to me like that!”

“Huh? But you… you are a kid!” The sweetness in Eliza’s voice was gone. “What a rude little brat… That’s no way to talk to an adult!”

“I don’t see any adults here! Just a hippie fashion chick and her boyfriend!”

“H-Hippie fashion?!”

“Boyfriend?!”

“Michael, I think we’re being mocked…”

_You got to hand it to Eliza, she's pretty sharp. And pretty mad…_

“I’m Red. Red Ferland!” continued the girl, playing with the strings of her hoodie. “Call me kid again and I’ll cut you down where you stand, evildoer!”

_Evildoer…? Hmm… assuming she came up from the storm drain…_

Michael got down on his knees to get at the girl’s eye level.

“I take it you’re a fan of the Steel Samurai?” he asked. Red glared at him.

“Don’t you dare utter that name! Villain!”

“What do you mean?” asked Eliza, getting down on her knees. “We’re on the Steel Samurai's side! We’re the good guys!”

“Prove it! What was the last line said by the innkeeper in episode eight?”

“Easy!” said Michael without having to even think about the answer. "Like some fries with that?"

“Hmph... not bad… for an old guy.”

_I’m only twenty-four!_

Michael sighed. This was going to be more frustrating than his last investigation at this rate.

“Say, did you hear anything about what happened the other day?” Michael said to the child in front of him. Red remained quiet.

“You were here…” added Eliza. “Weren’t you?” This had to be the child Fleming was talking about, right? She matched the vague description.

“Did you see anything? Did you see the Iron Maiden?”

“She…” Red said, biting down on her lip. “She… She always… The Steel Samurai and the Iron Maiden always win! Always! Yeah. Yeah, I saw her! I saw everything!”

“Wh-What?!” stuttered Eliza, getting to her feet.”

“But…” Michael could have sworn he heard Red's voice crack. “There’s no way I’m telling you losers!”

“Wha―!? Wait…” Eliza reached out, her fingers curling around Red’s shoulder to catch her.

“Lemme go!” Red shook off Eliza, stumbling into a table as she achieved her freedom. Red ran out of sight as Michael stood up.

_Poor kid… did she really see the murder?_

“Michael, take a look.” Michael looked over at Eliza. She had picked something off of the floor. “This fell off the table when she bumped into it.” She gave it to Michael. It was a tiny bottle, able to fit in the palm of his hand.

 _A… bottle? Why was this sitting there?_ Michael stowed the bottle in his pocket.

“Anyway, what was that kid saying?”

“She saw everything… Michael do you think…?

“She saw the murder? Yes. Come on, let’s get after her!” Michael and Eliza bolted off in the direction Red had taken.

 

* * *

**October 18, 2016**

**3:34 PM**

**Global Studios**

**Main Gate**

 

Michael and Eliza chased after Red. The little girl was faster than she looked. They chased her around the studio, finally coming to a stop at the main gate when the two had lost her.

Eliza and Michael leaned up against the guard station, catching their breath. Michael felt like there was something missing from the front gate. He looked inside the station.

“Where’s the old windbag?” he asked Eliza. Her response was a simple shrug. Fortunately, Michael got his answer less than a second later with someone shouting.

“I think that was her,” said Eliza. Both she and Michael stood up. Sure enough, Eliza was right. There was Fleming. She was chasing after Red. How that child still had so much energy to spare, Michael had no clue. The security guard face-planted in the ground.

“And… she tripped,” continued Eliza. She had a smirk.

_Eliza sure looks happy…_

“Hey. Hey, Michael,” said Eliza as she nudged her cohort. “Know what I just realized? Now’s our chance! Get the trailer key!” Michael blinked before he acted. He hurried into the guard station. Keys were hanging on hooks near the door. Taped above them were their labels. Michael snatched the key under the laminated paper that read “Studio Two Trailer”.

“We’ll be ‘borrowing’ this, right Michael?” said Eliza as she and Michael left the main gate. Michael grinned.

“See, Eliza. Now you're getting it!” Michael slipped the trailer key into his pocket. 

* * *

**October 18, 2016**

**3:47 PM**

**Studio Two Trailer**

 

When Michael entered the trailer, he was expecting to find a disaster zone. Considering the crash that they had heard earlier, the trailer was surprisingly clean. Besides the spick-and-span trailer, inside was a tall woman smoking a cigarette. She didn’t do so much as flinch when Michael and Eliza entered.

“Names,” said the woman. She didn’t look up from the papers she was reading.

“Our names?” repeated Eliza. She exchanged looks with Michael. “Um… we’re Cassie Ferguson’s lawyers…”

“I see…”

“And who exactly are—”

“Velma Kelly,” said the woman as she put down her papers. “The producer.”

_Velma Kelly... I won’t lie. She is quite beautiful. I can see why she was a dancer._

“I was wondering if you could tell me about the day of the murder…” Michael said with a clear of the throat. The producer was silent. “Mrs. Kelly?”

“Script.” was all she said.

“Excuse me?” Velma Kelly’s eyes snapped upwards to pierce Michael.

“I’m looking for a script. ‘The Steel Samurai, Episode 13’. I need it.” Michael and Eliza looked towards each other. “I need to read it.” She said nothing more.

_We're getting nowhere real fast._

“We’d _really_ like to ask you about the Steel Samurai, Mrs. Kelly,” said Eliza, trying to get the tiniest bit of helpful information out of the producer. Velma was silent for a moment.

“It's on TV. Every week. That's all I have to say about that.”

“Michael! She's telling us to go watch TV!? The nerve of her!”

“Hey, don’t get mad at me!” Michael sighed. He might as well give interrogating Mrs. Kelly a try. “Um… About the director... Zach Douglas. What, uh… exactly is his role here...?”

“Perhaps I didn't make myself clear? I'm looking for a script. I can't be bothered with anything else…” There was a stale silence. Eliza pulled Michael off to the side.

“Michael?” she said in a harsh whisper. “Are all people in the entertainment business this…” she flashed a look at the producer, “this weird?”

“It’s starting to look like it,” Michael muttered. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” Michael and Eliza started to head for the door. Before they could, the producer called out to them. Michael’s hopes were up and quickly dashed by the fact that she was using them as messengers. She gave a note to Michael meant for Zach. It was stuffed away into his pocket as they left the trailer, still as clueless as they were when they had arrived.

* * *

**October 18, 2016**

**4:02 PM**

**Global Studios**

**Studio One**

 

Needless to say, after being presented with the note from Velma, Zach was in a bit of a hurry to search the studios. Michael wondered what was on the note in the first place that made him panic the way he did. Either way, Michael lent a hand into helping out the director. That’s how he and Eliza were roped into searching Studio One for the missing script.

Eliza hopped up into one of the empty chair in the studio after about a couple minutes went by. She sighed.

“This is hopeless,” she said with a groan.

“Don’t talk like that, Eliza,” said Michael as he came up from under the table, “It’s negative thinking like this that will stop us from actually getting anything done.” Eliza sunk back into the chair.

“Whatever. The only good thing is I got to sit in this director’s chair. I’ve actually wanted to do that since we got here.

_The director…? Hmm…_

“Hey, Eliza?” said Michael, getting a hum from Eliza. “Look around that chair for me, will you?”

“Fine.” Eliza jumped off of the chair. It wasn’t even two seconds later that she had called out, waving the script above her head. She and Michael raced out of the studio.

 _Now I’m sure that Mrs. Kelly will talk… hopefully._  

* * *

**October 18, 2016**

**4:11 PM**

**Global Studios**

**Studio Two Trailer**

 

Michael was wrong. The moment that Eliza handed over the script to Velma Kelly, she fell quieter than before. The irritating act fueled an outburst from Michael’s partner-in-law.

“Just you hold on! What's the big idea!?” she said. “Who do you think you are anyway!? And… and do you even know who we are!?” Velma didn’t look up.

“You’re Cassidy Ferguson's lawyers,” she said without a moment of hesitation. “And I really don’t think you should be talking to me unless I’m considered a suspect.”

“Well… you are.” That was what got her attention. Velma looked up from the script, staring daggers at Eliza and Michael. She leaned back in her chair.

“You said that you wanted to know about the day of the murder?” Eliza nodded. “You know that there was a meeting here at noon?

“Yes,” replied Michael. Zach had mentioned it earlier.

“Now, listen closely. None of the people in this trailer that afternoon went to Studio One. It was impossible for us to leave.” Michael raised an eyebrow.

“Impossible?” Eliza repeated. “Why?

“The path was blocked. I’m sure you saw that on your way here, correct?”

“Uh… no. Not really.” Velma rolled her eyes at the statement.

“There is a statue of the studios’ mascot outside of Studio Two. The wind was strong the day of the murder, so it knocked it off of the old thing. They didn't start moving the head out of the way until after 3:00. It was after 4:00 by the time the path was unblocked. Got it? Everyone in this trailer was stuck here until the path was cleared. Stuck in this trailer. Stuck until after 4:00. Charlie died at 2:30. Thus, none of us could have gone to Studio One.” Michael’s eyes went wide.

“W-What!?”

“It's true. A crane came just after 3:00 to move the head. We called some people in to clear the way. I'm sure they'd corroborate my story.”

“But, wait!” said Michael. There had to be something wrong with that story. “What if the head fell over _after_ 2:30? Then you could have gone to Studio One!”

“2:30… the time of death… Very well. Come.” Velma got up out of her seat. She walked out the door of the trailer. Michael and Eliza glanced towards one another before following.

Velma Kelly lead them outside of the studio. Sure enough, laying on the grass as a large head that looked like it belonged to the statue next to it.

“ … That's ‘Mr. Monkey.’ When it wasn't broken, it announced the time in the most irritating monkey noise possible,” explained the producer.

 _It_ is _a monkey, after all._

“Check its head,” continued Velma. “The clock inside stopped when it broke.” Being the smaller of the two, Eliza walked to the back of the head.

“Michael…” she said. Michael didn’t like the tone in her voice. “It stopped at 2:15.”

“2:15…?” Michael repeated. Velma nodded.

“That's right. This path was blocked from 2:15 till after 4:00,” she said, “Therefore, we're innocent. End of story. Goodbye.” Michael didn’t try to stop Velma as she walked away.

“What do we do, Michael?” said Eliza. She crawled out from behind the monkey’s head. “There isn’t anyone besides Cassie who could have killed Mr. Kelly!”

 _It sure doesn't look good._  
“We're fresh out of clues… Everyone's alibi is watertight… We don't even have any promising leads…” Michael ran his hand through his hair. He groaned. “Things are looking pretty grim.” Eliza put her hand on Michael’s shoulder.

“It’s a little early for giving up, don’t you think?” Michael paused for a split second. That wasn’t Eliza’s voice. “You’ve got one lead.” Michael turned around. The person he was staring at was greeted with a relieved grin.

“Angelica!” he said, happy to see his mentor again, or at least that Eliza managed to channel her spirit. “What did… how did…?”

“Eliza has been trying to call me since the trial,” Angelica explained. “As I said before, her powers are still in need of training. It seems that she can only call on me when she’s—or you by how things are going—in trouble.” The smile was wiped off Michael’s face.

“That means we really are screwed…”

“I'd say so. But, as I said. There is one lead.”

“A lead? Really?” Michael had plenty of faith in Angelica, but he couldn’t see a trail in front of him that would lead him to the truth.

“The girl, Michael.” It took Michael a second to remember who Angelica was talking about. Red.

“I dunno,” said Michael with a shrug. “She didn’t sound like she was going to help us.”

“I’m sure that you can find some way of bringing her over onto your side,” Angelica said, a reassuring warmth in her expression. “Either way, that girl is our last hope Michael. We have to find her.”

 _Thanks, now I'm more worried than I was before…_  

* * *

**October 18, 2016**

**4:36 PM**

**Global Studios**

**Employee Area**

 

Michael and Angelica searched all throughout the studio. They had finally cornered Red in the employee Area, only for her to rush off again. But not before she pushed both adults to the side.

“Was that her?” Angelica asked as Michael helped her up onto her feet.

“Yeah,” he replied with a nod. “Her name’s Red Ferland.” Angelica sighed, looking around the room.

“I think we lost her.”

“Hmm…” Michael could feel the gears turning in his head. He stared over at a pair of brooms laying up against the wall. A grin forms on his face. “Angie, I have an idea.”

“An idea?” Michael picked up both of the brooms.

“Yeah, to draw her out.” He tossed one of the brooms to Angelica. She caught it with ease. “She couldn’t have gotten far. Now, follow me.”

* * *

 

**October 18, 2016**

**4:57 PM**

**Global Studios**

**Studio One Entrance**

 

“Michael, this is a ridiculous idea.”

“Shut up and go with it. I know what I’m doing.”

Michael and Angelica were standing outside of Studio One, brooms in their hands. They stood away from each other, almost like two heroes in an action movie preparing to fight. And that’s just what Michael’s plan was.

“Do you really think recreating a scene from the Steel Samurai is going to do anything?” Angelica said, a hand on her hip.

“No,” said Michael. “It’s recreating a scene with _you_ that’s going to draw her out.” Angelica narrowed her eyes.

“What?”

“Now…” Michael got into a battle-ready position. Angelica followed in suit, though her body language gave it away that she had no idea what she was doing.

_I hope Angie remembers something from watching those episodes with me in the office all those times…_

“Fighting evil for great justice!” Michael announced, mimicking the _Steel Samurai’s_ protagonist the best he could.

“Uh… y-you have disgraced me for the last time Steel Samurai―” Angelica said, her face molded into concentration. She didn’t remember any of it. Michael dropped his act.

“Come on, Angie!” he said, a bit impatient. “Just ‘cause you’re dead doesn’t mean you can slack off.” Angelica rolled her eyes at this statement. “Put your heart into it! This is the Evil Magistrate's time to shine.”

“Okay, fine.” Angelica sighed. “Just… what was the line again? The pale moon in the sky… The place you in the sky…?”

“No. It’s ‘the pale moon the sky―’”

“The pale moon in the sky cries for your blood.” Michael turned around. Standing behind him was Red. Her hood was up and over the braids she had her hair tied into. She looked upset about something. Michael was relieved that his plan worked.

“Bingo! That’s it!” He turned back to Angelica and tossed his broom to her. “Get it now, Angie?” Angelica nodded. She ditched both brooms, resting them up against the gate to the studio.

“I think so,” she said as she walked over to Michael and Red. She leaned over and whispered to Michael. “I can’t believe that worked.

_Don’t doubt a nerd's mind, Angelica. We are a strong people._

Angelica crouched down, resting her weight on her feet. She was eye-level with Red.

“Hey there,” she said in a voice a mother would use to her child, “Would you mind helping us out? Please?” Red fiddled with the strings of her hoodie.

“O-Okay…” she said, still sounding disappointed about something. “I-I’m Red.”

“Hello, Red. I’m Angelica. Angelica Schuyler. It’s nice to meet you.” Red perked up a bit. Angelica gestured for Michael to kneel down as well. He followed her motion. “And this is Michael Mell.” Michael gave the girl a wave. She didn’t respond. Angelica nudged Michael’s arm. “Okay, Michael. You take it from here.”

_I'm not so sure I'm qualified… though I know there is one passion we share that could get her to open up..._

“Hey, the Steel Samurai’s pretty cool, isn’t he?” said Michael, trying to keep his voice at a similar tone to Angelica.

“What would a grown-up like you know about the Steel Samurai?” Red said with a bit of snark.

“H-Hey!” Michael sighed.

_Calm down, Michael. she’s just a kid. I need to hear what she has to say. If Red knows something that could help us, I can get her to testify tomorrow. I hope. If they let a twelve year old watch a murder trial, why can’t a ten year old testify?_

“So…” said Michael, still trying to be peaceful. “You like the Steel Samurai?” Red nodded.

“Yeah,” Red replied, sounding a bit more excited. “Him and the Iron Maiden.”

“I can see that.” Michael glanced down at the logo on Red’s hoodie. It was emblazoned with a picture of Cassie in her costume. “You’re a big fan of the Iron Maiden, aren’t you?”

“Yeah! She’s my hero. … You like her too, don’tcha?”

“Me? Yeah. I love her and the show.”

“So, tell me what your favorite thing about the Iron Maiden is!”

“I like it when she, uh… she vanquishes the bad guys!”

“Yeah! The Steel Samurai and the Iron Maiden always win! Always!” Michael felt like laughing. He wondered if he ever got this enthusiastic about the Steel Samurai when he was younger. He would have to ask his mother next time he spoke with her.

Red reached in the bag she wore. She pulled out a thick blue binder, holding it out to Michael.

“Check this out! It's my fan album!” She said. Michael took the binder. Upon opening it, the lawyer was greeted with photographs of the Steel Samurai and the Iron Maiden. In fact, similar images were all over the pages.

“This is all pictures from performances for the show,” he said, thinking out loud. Red nodded, proud of herself.

“Yup! I got to every single live performance, and I _always_ take a picture when the dynamic duo land the final blow! I got ‘em all. I never missed a single one. It’s a perfect collection!” Red held up the camera around her neck. “All thanks to this! It’s my new digital camera! My mom gave it to me for my birthday. I take it everywhere with me!”

“That’s very impressive, Red,” said Angelica, jumping back into the conversation. “That’s the newest model, right?”

“You bet! And my album has a name. It’s called the ‘Path to Glory’! The Steel Samurai and Iron Maiden always win! Always! Hey, if you want this, you can have it.”

“Really?” asked Michael. “Are you sure?” Red nodded.

“Yeah. I took all of those with a digital camera. The data’s all at home. I can make another one.”

“Well then, thanks.” Michael looked down at the album. Red seemed comfortable talking with them. Now if he could get her to open up about the other day, the investigation would be golden.

“Red,” Michael said, his voice taking a more serious turn. “You were here on the day of the… incident, right?” Red looked down to the ground. Her happiness was replaced with her earlier expression.

“Yeah…” she muttered.

“Did you see anything? Anything unusual?” Red bit down on her lip. She didn’t want to answer.

“Red,” said Angelica, keeping her tone mellow. Red looked up at her. “Red, he needs to know if you saw anything. Michael’s a defense lawyer. He fights for justice, just like the Iron Maiden does. And right now, he needs help to save her. You have to help us fight for justice, too.” Red shut her eyes tightly. She shook her head, as if trying to get rid of a thought.

“I… I saw…” Red’s voice was cracking. Michael could see a tear come out of her eye. “I saw everything!” Michael put his hands on her shoulders.

“Red, I need you to tell me something very important,” he told her. “What did you see on the day of the incident?” Michael could feel Red starting to shake.

“I-I got here at 2:00… I had to come in through the woods in the back so that old security lady wouldn’t see me…” Red hiccuped. “I got kinda lost. I was in there for a half an hour. Then, I finally got to the studio. Then—” Red shook her head again.

“What is it, Red?” asked Angelica with genuine concern.

“I saw the Iron Maiden kill the bad guy! One shot, one kill!” Red had tears rapidly streaming down her face. “I got scared, and I ran home!” Michael swallowed down something rising in his throat.

“I-I see…” He retracted his hands as Angelica went in to calm Red down. She and Michael locked gazes with each other. They both knew what the other was thinking; they were having the same thoughts.

_I can’t even imagine… being so young and seeing someone die right in front of you… it’s gotta be hard. But still. If Red is telling the truth… that means it couldn’t have been anyone but Cassie. Everyone has an alibi. And those who don’t have been ruled out already…_

“Michael.” Michael broke out of his thoughts when Angelica beckoned forth his attention. “We can’t let Red take the stand.”

“I agree with you.”

“Not so fast!” Michael and Angelica stood up quickly enough to give someone whiplash. Michael felt all color drain from his face. Standing behind them was Detective Tiggular.

_When the hell did he show up?!_

“I heard everything,” said the detective. A string of curses ran in Michael’s mind. He had heard. He knew what Red did. He had heard what Red saw. “This kid is a key witness. She’s under police protection starting now! Come on, kid. We gotta head down to the precinct.”

Michael watched as Red, upset at this new revelation, tried to fight against Fiyero Tiggular as he took her away. He sighed.

_Whelp. We’re boned._

“That didn't go so well…” said Angelica, biting at her fingernail. “This is going to be a serious handicap.”

“What am I going to do?” Michael groaned. Angelica put her hand on Michael’s shoulder. It took Michael a second to realize that she was using him for support.

“I… really need to be going…” she said before sighing. “Michael, I’m sure that you’ll be fine.”

“Angie, wait!” Angelica glanced up at him. “I need you at the trial tomorrow. I don’t know what to do.” Angelica didn’t immediately answer.

“Michael. Can I ask you something?” Michael raised an eyebrow. “Do you really believe that Cassie is innocent?”

“Of course she is!” Michael had the strongest feeling that she was. He had seen Cassie’s behavior. Either she was a really good actor, or she was innocent. Michael chose to believe the latter.

“... That’s all I wanted to hear. I’ll see you in court, then.” Michael felt stress be taken off of his shoulders.

“Thanks, Angelica.” She fainted smiled at him.

“See you soon.” Those were her last words before Angelica left her sister’s body. Eliza collapsed onto Michael. She had passed out. Michael picked her up. It would be better for her to sleep at the office than anything. Michael still had to go over his defense for tomorrow.

_I really hope that we can find a hole in Red’s testimony tomorrow… Though… I can’t help but wonder… If the Iron Maiden won and “killed the bad guy”... why was Red so upset…?_


	10. Twisted Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day two of the trial begins and Michael has a very little lead to go on. His only hope lies in picking out any possible contradiction in a little girl's vague testimony.

**October 19, 2016**

**9:42 AM**

**District Court**

**Defendant Lobby No. 1**

 

Michael was doubled over on the couch, fingers dug deeply into his hair. The prospect of today's trial was practically nerve-wracking. It could have also been because he barely gotten any sleep the night before, still trying desperately to search for something to build his defense on from evidence and past testimony. The twelve cups of coffee he had drunk since he woke from a mere two hours of sleep were not helping either.

“Um… Mr. Mell?” Michael looked up. Standing in front of him were two worried women: his client, Cassie Ferguson, and his deceased mentor inhabited her sister’s body, Angelica Schuyler.

“Yeah?” Michael asked, taking off his glasses and rubbing at his eyes.

“Why do you look so… unhappy?” Cassie asked.

“Nothing…. It’s nothing.” Michael slid his glasses back on. “Really, it’s nothing. Right, Angie?” Cassie looked down at the ground.

_ Uh oh. She looks even unhappier than I am… _

Michael felt fingers curled around his arm. Angelica pulled him off the couch and off to the side, away from Cassie.

“Michael, your client is practically a dead woman walking,” she whispered to him. “Perhaps that’s why I feel so close to her.”

“Angie, this is no time for dead people jokes,” Michael whispered back.

“Sorry. Just trying to lighten the mood…” Angelica pulled away from him. “We’re going into this trial utterly defenseless. Yet, if Cassie is truly innocent, we should be able to find something overlooked by the prosecution in the evidence to prove it.”

“Something… overlooked?” Michael repeated, an eyebrow raised. Angelica nodded. 

“We have to find something today, Michael. It’s either that, or we lose the trial.” Michael swallowed a growing lump in his throat.

_ This isn't going to be easy. _

* * *

**October 19, 2016**

**10:00 AM**

**District Court**

**Courtroom No. 4**

 

The court was now in session. Michael stared at Jeremy from across the room. He was avoiding looking at him, keeping eyes on everything else in the room but the defense attorney. 

“An unexpected fact came to the attention of the court yesterday,” said Jeremy, starting off with his opening statement. “We learned that there were other people present at the studios on the day of the murder. Today, I would like to show what I have found that proves they have nothing to do with the murder.” The Judge nodded.

“Very well. You may call your first witness, Mr. Heere.”

_ I wonder if that producer is going to come out…  _

“The prosecution calls Mr. Zach Douglas to the stand.” Michael sighed, almost relieved, at Jeremy’s statement.

_... or the director. The director is better. _

“Will the witness state his name and profession?” asked Jeremy as Zach took to the stand.

“My name is Zachary Douglas,” said Zach. Not once did his cool, collected attitude break. “I’m one of the directors over at Global Studios. I make  _ The Steel Samurai _ .” The Judge ordered Zach to testify about the events that transpired on the day of the murder.

_ If Cassie is innocent, that means someone in the trailer on that day did it. Let’s see what we got here. _

“I was at the studios from around 9:00 that morning. During the morning, I was doing... a umm... an action scene run-through. It took a lot more time than I thought it would. I hear that everyone else ate lunch in the Employee Area… including Cassie,” testified Zach. “But I had a meeting in the Studio Two trailer, so I ended up skipping lunch. We were in the meeting until around 4:00… During the meeting, well, I'm pretty sure no one left their chairs. That's about it.”

“Hmm... The time of Mr. Kelly's death was 2:30 PM. And according to your testimony, you were in a meeting at that time. Mr. Mell, you may begin your cross-examination.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” said Michael, giving a nod to the Judge. He turned to Zach. There were no clear contradictions, so it was time to press every little thing Zach had said. “So, in the end, you didn't get to eat?”

“Yeah. No steak, at least.”

“Michael,” said Angelica, lowering her voice as she spoke to him.

“Yeah?”

“Doesn’t something about that seem strange to you?”

_ Strange? How would it be strange? The man said he didn’t get to eat lunch because he was at Studio Two. Though… now that I think about it… when Eliza and I were there…. if they didn’t get to eat, then why were those plates there….? _

“Now that you mention it…” Michael said. He put the spotlight back on the witness. “Mr. Douglas!” 

“Yes?” Zach seemed to snap out of a daze at the sound of his name.

“I should probably tell you…. I did end up going to the trailer yesterday. I saw something on a table outside. There were two plates on it, the same kind of plates that were in the Employee Area. The Studios have been closed to filming since the day of the murder; no one could have eaten there because of this fact. So, Mr. Douglas… who exactly ate there?”

“Er… um…” Zach chuckled nervously. “Good call. I forgot about it, we had to eat quickly. So… some of us did eat at the trailer.”

“A t-bone steak you mean?” Zach nodded again.

“Yeah, well… the crew went through all that trouble. So, despite conflicts of interest, it was brought to my trailer for me.”

“But you were in a meeting the whole time. When exactly did you have time to eat that steak?”

“We took a break during the meeting. I er… wolfed it down then.” It was visible to the entire court that Zach was starting to glisten with sweat.

_ A mental image I will carry with me to my grave... Wait a second...! If they took a break in that meeting, that contradicts his testimony! Maybe that’s why he’s sweating... _

Michael slammed his hands down on the bench.

“Mr. Douglas!” he yelled. “I hope you realized that statement contradicts your testimony. Didn’t you tell the out that you ate a t-bone steak during a break? Before you mentioned that because of the meeting, you had to skip lunch!” Zach was quiet. “Well?”

“W-We… I…” Zach sighed. “We did take a break.”

“Great job, Michael!” said Angelica, still keeping her voice low. “If they took one break, then one of them could have gone to the studio n that amount of time.” Michael nodded. He hit his hands on the bench again.

“Your Honor!” said Michael, calling the Judge to attention. “I call the witness to testify to the court about this break!”

“Very well,” said the Judge, taking Michael’s side. “Mr. Douglas, your testimony please.” Just before Zach could start his testimony, Michael heard a low, snide snicker from the prosecutor's bench. He paled.

_ Uh oh. Jeremy is laughing… Why is he laughing? _

“Yeah. We took a break…” admitted Zach, rubbing the back of his neck. “It was just fifteen minutes, but still. I don’t think that would be enough time to head over to Studio One from where I was to kill Charlie. It was just enough time for me to eat.”

With the signal from the Judge, Michael started his cross-examination.

“What time exactly did you take this break?” he asked.

“I’d say it was from about 2:30 to 2:45.”

_ 2:30! That's the time of death! So he could have gone to Studio One, killed Kelly, and come back... I guess it's possible, time-wise… _

“What were you doing for those fifteen minutes?”

“Eating my lunch,” Zach said with a shrug. “What else could I be doing?”

“But there were two plates on the table at the trailer.” Zach blinked.

“Oh. Right. That one belonged to Velma Kelly.”

_ Velma Kelly... the producer. _

“Why do you say that no one could have committed murder in Studio One?”

“OBJECTION!” shouted Jeremy, pointing directly at Michael. “Haven’t we had enough of this pointless questioning? This testimony has made on this painfully clear. The people in the trailer had nothing to do with the murder of Charlie Kelly. It was impossible for any one of the them to go to Studio One anyway.”

“What!?”

“Something wrong, Mr. Mell? Surely you aren't suggesting one of the people in the trailer went to Studio One!”

_ I don't want to write off so many possible suspects... But I can't keep claiming the impossible, either… _

“I agree that it was impossible for anyone in the trailer to go to the studio in that time,” Michael said, relinquishing a small sigh.

“I thought you might be thoughtlessly treading on thin ice again,” said Jeremy with a smug grin.  “But I see you had at least an inkling of the truth.”

“What do you mean, Mr. Heere?” questioned the Judge.

“It’s quite simple. It’s true that the break in the trainer meeting came right at the time of death. However, the path from here to the scene of the crime was blocked by the severed head of the studio’s mascot! The fallen head had blocked the way, knocked off by a strong gust of wind at 2:15. When the people in the trailer took their break, the way to the studio was blocked.” 

“It’s true,” Zach said, keeping his eyes focused on the ground. “I had tried to make it to the Employee Area for lunch myself. I couldn’t make it very far with the head blocking the way.” The Judge gave a short, curt nod.

“I believe we have seen a enough evidence,” he declared. “I would like to relieve Mr. Douglas from the stand.” As Zach got down from the stand, Michael could have sworn that the director and Cassie had locked eyes for a moment. But that wasn’t what he had to worry about.

_ Wh-what? It's over? _

“Very well. The court’s opinion on this case is as follows,” continued the Judge. “We have found that there were several other people in Studio Two on the day of the murder. However, it is also clear that none of these people could have gone to Studio One. They therefore have no relation to this case. Furthermore, with regards to the photo of the... Given the unique size of the costume, no one other than Ms. Ferguson could have worn it that day. All that is lacking is decisive evidence that he is the one who did it. If we had that, I'm afraid I would have to find Ms. Ferguson guilty.” Michel felt himself tense up. He couldn’t look at Cassie, knowing that there were tears rapidly forming in her eyes.

_ Shit… no. I’m sorry Cassie... _

“Wait a minute, Your Honor.” Michael snapped to attention. He stared at Jeremy as the prosecutor spoke. What was he doing? He had a guilty verdict right in front of him served on a silver platter. “The prosecution indeed has a piece of decisive evidence. Yesterday, the police found a witness to the murder.”

_ A witness… who could it… wait…. is he serious?! _

“Who is this witness, Mr. Heere?”

“A young girl who was visiting the studios.” Michael uttered a small groan. He knew who Jeremy was about to call to the stand. “She saw the very moment the Iron Maiden skewered the victim.”

“I see. The court will take a ten minute recess, after which we will hear your witness. Court is adjourned for recess!”

* * *

**October 19, 2016**

**11:04 AM**

**District Court**

**Defendant Lobby No. 1**

 

The one thing Michael didn’t want to happen on the witness stand was starting to come true.

“Angie, what do we do?” he said, pacing back and forth across the room. “Everyone in that trailer has an alibi.” Angelica sunk deep into the sofa in the room.

“I’m sorry Michael,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I guess I was wrong.” Michael stopped pacing, swiveling on his heels to face his former legal partner.

“Angelica! Don’t tell me you’re giving up.” Angelica sighed.

“Don’t get me wrong, Michael. I’ve never given up on a trial before, not while I still had a fighting chance, but there was only one clear thing in your cross-examinations. The people in the trailer couldn’t have gone to Studio One and I originally thought that there is something more to it than that but… but I was wrong. That's all there is.”

“Um…” Michael had almost forgotten that Cassie was in th room until she piped up. “What’s going to happen to me?” she asked. “It kinda seems like everyone in that courtroom thinks I’m a murderer! They think I did it!” Angelica placed a hand on Cassie’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Miss Ferguson,” said Angelica, trying to sound positive. “If you’re innocent, we will prove it. Just leave it to us and be yourself. Be strong. You are the Iron Maiden, her to children everywhere, after all.” Cassie nodded, putting on a brave face.

“Thank you….”

“Okay, Michael. This one's for the kids! Let's do it!” Michael nodded as the recess came to an end. They were called back into the courtroom.

* * *

**October 19, 2016**

**11:15 AM**

**District Court**

**Courtroom No. 4**

 

Court fell back into session. Even from how far apart they were, Michael could see Jeremy fidgeting with the edge of a case file in front of him.

“Your Honor,” he began, going rather slowly in his speech before picking up tempo. “Our witness is an elementary school student, and seeing as how this is a murder case….” Jeremy swallowed down something. “We… I worry that either one of us—” he glanced at Michael as he said this, “—might cause or add onto the witness’s trauma.”

_ Nice to see Jeremy taking the moral high ground… _

“However, we have no choice. The prosecution calls Red Ferland to the stand. Your Honor.” Michael hid a small snicker as Red took the stand. She was short enough that no one could see past her shoulders. They had to get a box for her to stand on.

“Will the witness state her name and grade in school?” Jeremy asked when Red was finally in clear view. The girl was quiet. “Witness.”

“What?” snapped Red with no given context. “Just because you’re all grown-up that doesn’t mean you can push me around!” Jeremy seemed stunned by her little outburst. He didn’t say another word.

“Red?” said Angelica, using the same, motherly one that she had used the day before. “Answer his question, okay?” Red’s eyes lit up when she saw Angelica.

“Hey, it’s you! That nice lady!” Her mood did a one-eighty. She nodded towards the former attorney. “Okay. My name is Red Ferland; I’m in the fifth grade!”

_ I get the feeling this is going to be a long, long day… _

The trial continued, with the Judge having to remind both Jeremy and Michael to be gentle with the way they spoke to Red. Jeremy cleared his throat.

“Red,” he said. He was trying to copy Angelica's manner of speech. “You were at Global Studios on the day of the er…. incident?” Red nodded.

“Is that a problem?” she asked. Jeremy shook his head before going on.

“Please tell us about what you saw that day.” 

“What, pops? You want me to tell you and gramps with the beard over there?”

“Just… Mr. Heere will be fine.”

“I prefer ‘bearded gentleman’ myself.” Michael sighed heavily.

_ A very long day… _

“Incidentally, photographic equipment is strictly forbidden in this courtroom.” Michael looked over at Red. She had brought her camera with her to the trial.

“M-My apologies, Your Honor. Miss Ferland said she wouldn't testify if she couldn't bring it... I'd like special permission, if that's possible.” Michael choked back a giggle.

“Wait,” he said, pulling on Jeremy’s attention. “You’re saying that you had to bargain with a kid…” He tried not to laugh again. “And you  _ lost _ ?” Jeremy rolled his eyes as Red started her testimony.

“I wanted to see a Steel Samurai rehearsal, even if it was just one time. So, I found a map on the internet and web of the studios that day,” Red said, recalling the events of the day that Charlie Kelly was killed. “I went through the woods off the path, so that old security lady wouldn't catch me. I got kinda lost on the way to the studio though. For about thirty minutes. When I came out by the studio, there was the Iron Maiden! It totally rocked! Right before my eyes, out came the bad guy! Of course, the Iron Maiden took him down! If I had my camera with me, that woulda been the time for a shot, I tell you.” Red bit down on her lip, looking away from anyone’s prying eyes. “A-Anyway, I couldn't get into the studio, so I went home.”

_ This kid is tougher than most adults we see in here, honestly… _

Michael began his cross-examination. He had already focused in on one singular sentence.

“Red, what you said seems a little… well, it seems a little strange,” he said. Red glanced up at him. “Yesterday, you told my associate and I that you take your camera with you wherever you go.” Even for a child, it was easy to spot Red tensing up. “Were you lying to us? Or are you lying to the court?”

“Um…”

“Red, you shouldn’t lie here. You understand that, right?”

“Mr. Mell.” Now it was Michael’s turn to tense the Judge’s voice had been far too strong for his liking.  

_ Uh oh… was I putting the pressure on too much? _

“What is this ‘digital’ camera contraption you're talking about?”

“It's umm… a digital camera, Your Honor. It's kind of a new sort of camera. It's been around for a while, actually…”

_ How do I explain that!? _

Michael shook his head before continuing.

“Anyway, Red,” he said. “I can’t really believe that you wouldn’t bring your camera with you on a trip to the studios.” Red didn’t look at Michael. “You did bring it, didn’t you?”

“Umm…” She opened her mouth to speak, only to be cut off by Jeremy Heere before a word could leave her mouth.

“OBJECTION!” Michael’s breath hitched in his throat. He was so close to getting the truth. “Mr. Mell. How cruel you are, pestering a child in this way.”

“Child or prosecuting attorney, no one should lie in court!”

“What do you mean ‘or prosecuting attorney’!?”

“You hear what I said!” Michael slammed his hands on the bench. “Red!” Red jumped at the sound of her name. Michael let go of his held breath to calm down. “Red. You did have your camera, didn’t you?”

“... yeah,” said Red. She started to fidget with the knobs on her camera. “Yeah, I had my camera. So what? I there a problem with that?!”

“So, you did have a camera?” asked the  Judge. Red nodded to him. “And did you use this camera?” Red tried to make herself look smaller.

“Why would I use it?” she said. “I… I was too busy watching them to even think about it.” When asked to testify about what she saw, Red readily complied. 

“Like I said, I had my camera with me. I was too busy glued to the action to remember it was even there. I couldn't take my eyes off of it! The Iron Maiden went for the bad guy and then…” Red froze. All excitement on her features slipped away. Her face… it as the one she had given Michael yesterday when she had told him about what she had witnessed. “Then… then the bad guy stopped moving.”

Michael was given the chance for his cross-examination.

_ Red… that face… she was making the same face yesterday when we talked about the murder. Why would she be upset? If the Iron Maiden did kill the Evil Magistrate… then why… why is she upset? _

“You were watching the Iron Maiden,” questioned Michael, tapping a finger against the bench. “Did you watch the whole fight?”

“Y-Yeah! Of course!”

“You didn’t turn away? Not even once?”

“N… no! Why would I?” She was hiding something, Michael knew that she was. He just had to get her to break while still complying with the Judge’s set rules for questioning the minor.

“Why wasn’t the bad guy moving?”

“W-Well… the Iron Maiden brought him to justice. That’s why!”

“And how exactly did she do that?”

“H-How?” Michael nodded. Red gripped her camera tightly in her hands. “She kicked him, punched him, slapped him. S-Something like that.”

_ She's still being vague… How should I play this? … That’s it. _

“Red.” Michael’s voice was calm. 

“Wh-What?!” Red was reacting rather defiant.

“Something’s been bothering me. You said you couldn’t take your eyes off of the action.”

“Y-Yeah? What about that?”

“If you couldn’t take your eyes away from it… how did you miss the most important part?” Red froze for a split second.

“OBJECTION!” shouted Jeremy, once again speaking before Red could. “What is the meaning of this, Mell? The witness stated what she saw quite clearly…”

“OBJECTION!” Michael fired back, “You now as well as I do that she's been extremely vague. Tell me, what kind of murderer _slaps_ their victim to death?” Jeremy screeched, muttering something incoherent afterwards. “My point is simple. Red,” he turned to the girl, “you may have been watching the fight, but you missed the most important part. The killing blow!” There a roar from the gallery.

“Mr. Mell!” yelled the Judge. “How could this be?!”

_ Oh shit. _

“Um… well…” Michael stuttered. He knew Red didn’t see the killing blow. How the hell could he prove it?! “That’s the thing, Your Honor…”

“Michael,” said Angelica, leaning close to him so only he could hear her. “You’re on the right track. Just think. Why didn’t Red see the climax of the fight? What could have made her look away? I know you! You can figure this out!”

_ I know you know me… I just can't see why Red would look away… I know she did; nothing else makes sense. So why did she…. _ Michael looked at Red. She was fidgeting with her camera again. She yelped as the flash unexpectedly went off as she pressed a button. The action only earned her a small lecture from Jeremy. Michael blinked. _ She doesn’t seem to have much experience with her camera. Wait… that camera… that's it! _

“Your Honor, I have evidence to support my claim!” said Michael, letting obvious confidence seep into his words.

“Evidence?”

“Yes. Evidence. It’s her camera.” The entire court stared at Michael. He cleared his throat. “Let me explain. The witness just received her camera. I’m willing to bet that she isn’t entirely familiar with the way it works. Am I right, Red?” Red hesitated for a moment. She nodded. “Thank you. Now, asked yourself. Why would Red be looking somewhere else at this critical moment?” Michel caught Jeremy’s eyes going wide, probably filled with the same realization he had. “The answer is simple. She was looking at her camera! She was trying to take a picture of the Iron Maiden!”

Red was shaking on the stand. Michael relaxed his stance. He hadn't realized how loud he had gotten. Did he go a little too far?

“Red?” Red slowly looked up at him. Michael was using a softer tone of voice. “There’s only one reason why you looked away. It was because you wanted to take a picture, right?” Red paused for a second. She nodded. “But you just got your camera. You weren’t used to using it yet. It was due to this fact that you missed the actual killing blow. Am I right?”

“... Yeah…” said Red. Her voice was quiet, but it as loud enough for the Judge, the prosecution and the defense to hear.

“I’ll bet she’s hiding more than that,” whispered Angelica. “Have her testify again!”

_ Angelica means business today. I think there was only one other time I saw her so worked up over a case… but damn. There are major differences between then and now. _

Michael shook his head. The Judge let Red testify again with the defense’s request. Red’s attitude took a turn. It had gone from confidence to almost hesitant and anxious.

“The Iron Maiden had just escaped the clutches of the villain…” said Red. She was staring at the ground. “So, I held up my camera to take a picture. I couldn’t get the lens to open in time, though, so I missed it.” She bit down on her lip. “Th-That’s all that happened. Like I told you, I didn’t take a picture.”

_ Hmm... I would have, once I got that lens open... Did she really not take a picture? Not even one? Nah, she definitely would have taken a picture. She’s hiding something. Okay, say she really did take a picture. Why is she lying about it? Okay, Michael. Time to do what you do best. Fucking bluff until you pull something out of your ass. _

“Red, I’m willing to bet that you did take a picture that day,” said Michael. Red was quiet from a moment. She held her camera close.

“H-How did you know that?” Michael smirked. So he was right.

“I can see right through lies, Red. It’s one of my superpowers.”

“Wow….”

_ This feels great! _

“Y-Yeah. I took a picture…” said Red. She shook her head, just like she did yesterday. “It's too late, so I erased it.” 

_ What. _

“You… You erased it?”

“... yes…” That statement was just confusing, even down to the letter.

“Why would you erase a picture of your beloved Iron Maiden, victorious after battle?”

“Well… y’know…” She was gripping her camera a little too tightly. Her hands were shaking by all the pressure she was putting onto it. “W-Why would I want to keep a picture like that?”

_ Hmm... she's becoming less and less cooperative. I better find a clear contradiction soon... or some solid evidence….  _ Michael stared down at his own case file and the evidence he had gotten the day before. Sloppy handwriting on a blue binder stared back at him. On a whim, he opened it. The last page winked at him. It was blank. _ Wait a tic. _

“Red!” Red groaned.

“Every time you say my name, you follow it with something bad,” she grumbled. Michael just gave her a reassuring look, only to be returned with one of confusion. Michael held up the binder: Red’s personal photograph collection, the Path to Glory.

“I just wanted to say thank you for giving this to me.”

“Huh?” Red blinked. “Oh. Right. I forgot about that…”

“What was it you told me then, Red? You said you went to every live performance, and that you always took a picture when the final blow landed. You said that you never missed one. And this happens to be my proof.” Michael held up the binder, showing to court a few of the pictures that had been taken. “This leaves one question. If you got a picture of the Iron Maiden standing over her foe in victory, why would you erase it? Wouldn’t you keep it for your album?” Red blinked again before her eyes grew wide in consideration. 

“Mr. Mell…” Michael looked up at the Judge. “What exactly is this album?”

“It’s called the Path to Glory. It’s a collection of pictures of the Steel Samurai and the Iron Maiden, all taken by Red Ferland. She claims it's a perfect collection of every battle they won.”

“I... I see.” Michael closed the binder.

“Don't you find this a little bit odd, Your Honor?” asked Michael. “Among all of the pictures of the Iron Maiden that are in this book, none were taken that day.”

“Mr. Mell. Have you an explanation? If the Iron Maiden had just defeated her adversary… I certainly would expect to see a picture of it in this album…”

“Exactly my point, Your Honor!” In the next instant, Michael froze. His face went slack. A thought of realization had struck him like a paper ball flying across the courtroom.

_ No... wait... no way! That’s why Red got so upset! It wasn’t because she saw the murder…. okay, that might play some factor into it, but it isn’t the main reason! _

“Michael?” Michael blinked. Angelica was shaking his arm to bring him back into reality.

“I figured it out…”

“What?”

“I figured it out!” Michael said a bit louder. “I figured out the truth!”

“Don’t tell me that, tell the court that!”

“Mr. Mell,” said the Judge, “What is going on here?”

“I figured out why the witness erased the photo.” Michael had grown serious, confidence immensely rising. “Red had erased that picture because the Iron Maiden didn’t win.” Michael looked at Red. He could easily read the look on her face. It told him one thing. “I’m right, aren’t I? Red, you need to tell the truth.” Red shook her head violently.

“N-No way!” she shouted. “No! It’s impossible! The Steel Samurai nor the Iron Maiden lose! Th-They always win! Always!” Michael lowered his gaze.

“Your Honor,” he said. “The witness has revealed everything with her words. There was a reason that she lied to us and said she didn’t take a picture. It’s the very same reason that she erased the photo. For Red, it was inconceivable that the Iron Maiden could be defeated. However, what Red had witnessed was the impossible to her! She saw the Iron Maiden lose! To admit that would destroy everything she believed in. That’s why she lied. She couldn’t handle the truth!” There was a flurry of chatter. The Judge banged his gavel.

“W-Witness! I mean, Red!” he said when quiet had resumed. “Is this true!? W-what did you see? Tell the court what you saw!”

“I…” Red only got that single word out. The dam finally broke. Right there on the stand, Red burst into tears, crying heavily with sobs racking her chest.

“Red…” Michael said, keeping his voice sincere. “You saw the Iron Maiden lose. Right?” Still shaking, Red nodded her head.

“Y-You’re right!” managed the child in between her cries. “Th-The Iron Maiden fell… Th-Then she didn’t… she didn’t…” Her sobs choked her out. It was at this point that a woman whom Michael suspected was Red’s mother started to leave the stands and made her way down to the girl.

“What kind of stunt are you trying to pull, Mell?!” called out Jeremy. He seemed to be in a state of chaos himself, just like the rest of the courtroom. “The Iron Maiden was the murderer, not the victim!”

“Yet, according to your witness’s testimony, the Iron Maiden was the one who fell!” Michael shot back. “We’ve made a grave error.”

“An… error?” Jeremy shook his head. “What’s this all about?!”

“It’s actually really simple. Let me explain. The Iron Maiden fell on the ground at the end of the fight and laid still. In other words, the Iron Maiden wasn’t the killer, but the victim! Don’t you see, Prosecutor Heere? Charlie Kelly was the one wearing the Iron Maiden costume!”

“Wh-What?! B… But how on Earth…?”

“Cassie Ferguson is unnaturally tall and athletically built compared to the average woman. Most women can't fit into it costume. But what if it wasn't a woman in that costume in the day of the murder? Only someone with Ms. Ferguson's height and build could fit inside. Quite possibly a man… a man such as Charlie Kelly!” There was an uproar in the courtroom at the revelation. Michael could feel satisfaction seeping in. He could see Red being consoled by her mother on the stand. Her crying had almost ceased entirely.

“So,” said the Judge when everything calmed down. “The Iron Maiden in the photograph… you’re saying the person in the costume was the victim, Mr. Charlie Kelly?” Michael nodded.

“Precisely,” he said, a smug look on his face. “It all fits with the given facts. Charlie Kelly was at the run-through that morning. He obviously knew about Cassie’s injury, hence the limp.”

“B-But wait! Hadn't Mr. Kelly gone to Studio One already?”

“That’s what he wanted everyone to think. Remember what Pauline Fleming said in her testimony yesterday? She said that Mr. Kelly left the Employee Area after lunch. However, no one saw him go into Studio One. There wasn’t a picture of him doing so, either. He waited for Ms. Ferguson to be out of the way. So, when Cassie Ferguson fell asleep in her dressing room, Mr. Kelly took his chance. He snuck in and stole the Iron Maiden costume.” There was a stagnant silence, with the other exception being sniffs from Red as her mother started to lead her out of the courtroom.

“... why would the victim do such a thing..?”

“I… don’t know.”

_ Shit on a stick. _

“... I get it…” Michael turned over to the stand. Red was barely halfway to the door when she broke free of her mother. Her eyes were still bloodshot, and the tear tracks remained stained to her cheeks.

“I thought Iron Maiden was moving strange,” she said, her voice marred by the occasional hiccup. “It was a different… Pops!” Red ran across the court. She ran right to the defense’s bench.

“What is it?” Michael asked. Red panted a little before she started to dig around in her bag.

“There was one photo I saved. I just got it developed two days ago!”

“Wh-What?!”

“Show us!” Jeremy added in. He was leaning far enough over the bench that Michael was pretty sure he was ready to jump over it if need be. Red produceded the photo from the confines of her bag, holding it up high for the court to see after showing it to Michael. He stared at it.

“This is it!” she proudly proclaimed. “Right here!” She then walked over and gave the photo to the Judge, standing up on her toes just to reach. His Honor took a look at it.

“Well… looking at this, it's still a little hard to say,” said the Judge, narrowing his eyes at the picture. “I'm afraid that it could be anyone in that costume. Your opinion, Mr. Mell?” Michael sighed, shaking his head.

“I… I can’t see…”

“Michael.” Angelica put her hand on Michael’s shoulder. “Look at the photo again. It’s all the evidence that you need.”

“What? I uh… Your Honor? May I… see the photo again?” His Honor held no objections. He gave the photo to Michael. He focused on it. The image depicted the Iron Maiden walking into the studio. There had to be some sort of contradiction that would have proved him right.

_ I can’t see anything. Even with my glasses, I can’t see anything. What was Angelica talking about? This clearly shows the Iron Maiden walking into Studio…  _ Michael looked at the studio gate in the picture.  _ That’s not Studio One. _

“Your Honor!” Michael held up the picture. “Take a look at the gate! The number on it! It’s not the number one! It’s two!” Once again, Michael heard Jeremy wordlessly shriek. “I think Prosecutor Heere gets it.”

“But.. But that’s…” Jeremy stuttered, bringing his hand down on the bench. “Th-That’s impossible!”

“Eh? What's this all about? Please explain so that I might be shocked along with the rest of the court.”

“Gladly, Your Honor,” said Michael with a curt nod. “The body was found in Studio One. However, what do we see in the photo taken at the time of the murder? The number one isn’t listed on the studio gate; it’s the number two!” Michael slammed a hand on the bench. “The real murder scene was Studio Two!”

The Judge had to calm down the aroused court. Jeremy was shaking, digging his nails into the wood of the prosecutor’s bench.

“Your Honor,” continued Michael, “I find it very significant that the murder took place at Studio Two instead of Studio One. As you may recall, there is a trailer in Studio Two. On that very day, there was a meeting held in that trailer. There was a break in the meeting corresponding to the time of death. During that break, Mr. Zach Douglas and Mrs. Velma Kelly were outside, eating. They were at the scene of the crime! There’s no way around this, the path was blocked by 2:15. In other words, the victim had to have gone into Studio Two at the time! The evidence is found on the security camera photograph! It was captured at that time!”

“Yes…” muttered the Judge. “Yes, I suppose that would be the case.”

“Remember Mr. Douglas’s testimony? He said no one in that trailer was guilty because they could not have gone into Studio One. Yet, the reverse is actual true! Only someone in that trailer could have committed this murder! No one else had access to the studio at the time!” Michael relaxed. His heart was pumping pure adrenaline. “The defense makes the following claims: the scene of the crime was Studio Two, and the person that the security guard, Ms. Fleming saw was the victim, Charlie Kelly! For some reason, Mr. Kelly stole the costume and went to Studio Two.”

“OBJECTION!” Jeremy shouted, raking a hand through his hair. “This… This is insane! Charlie Kelly was the victim! Why would he need a costume in the first place?! Are you suggesting he did so to cover up the details of his own murder?!” Michael slackened.

“W-Well… no. Of course not…” All eyes were on him. Michael’s mouth acted before his brain could. “But, I do have proof that he stole the costume!”

“Y-You do?!”

“You do, Mr. Mell?”

_ Now that they're so surprised suddenly I'm much less confident... I think I'm right, though!  _

Michael didn’t feel like he had any evidence to support his claim. He shoved his hands into his pocket. Something brushed up against it. Michael pulled out the object: the empty bottle that Red had knocked off the table yesterday.

_ Lucky for me, I never clean out the pockets of my jacket. _

“This is it,” he said, holding the bottle up as if it was a trophy he had just won.

“An… empty medicine bottle?” said the Judge. Michael nodded.

“I found this on the table in the Employee Area. It was the same table where Mr. Kelly and Ms. Ferguson ate on the fifteenth. The label reads… sleeping pills…?” Michael looked at the label more carefully.

“‘Sleeping pills’...?”

_ Wait a minute. That doesn’t make sense. Why would there be a bottle of sleeping pills on the… oh. Cassie’s alibi… Oh… Oh, this is going GREAT! _

“The defendant, Cassie Ferguson, spent the entire afternoon asleep in her dressing room,” he explained, placing the bottle on the table of evidence. “She didn’t fall asleep of her own volition. Mr. Kelly had drugged her food when she wasn’t paying attention!”

“Wait a moment… That bottle does raise some suspicions, yes. But there is no proof that Mr. Kelly used it.” Michael stared at the bottle in question.

“Your Honor, I have an idea. Check the bottle for fingerprints. If there are fingerprints on there that match up with the victim’s, then it would prove my claim to be true!” Michael expected an OBJECTION! from the prosecution. No such cry came.

“I suppose you're right. Very well. The court will take possession of the bottle.” Michael felt the grin on his face grow. Things were going perfect. “This court will suspend proceedings on the current trial for today. Red Ferland’s testimony has revealed new possibilities in this case. In fact, things may have happened very differently than we previously thought. The Iron Maiden seen by Ms. Fleming may have been the victim, Charlie Kelly. The scene of the crime was not Studio One, but Studio Two. And those in the trailer did have time to commit murder. Mr. Mell?”

“Yes, Your Honor?” said Michael, looking up at the Judge.

“Your homework is to find the answer to the following question: Why would Mr. Kelly steal the Iron Maiden costume? Also, who killed him, and why? Find the answers for me by tomorrow.” Michael’s smile faltered.

_ I haven't had homework that difficult since law school…  _

“Mr. Heere.”

“Mm?”

“You will need to reconsider your stance in this case. Above all, you will need to reconsider your suspicion of Ms. Cassie Ferguson.” Jeremy sighed, but gave the Judge a short nod.

“As you say, Your Honor,” said the prosecutor. If Michael didn’t know better, he would have said that Jeremy was relieved that the trial was getting another day.

“This trial will be extended until tomorrow. This is the last extension! Very well… Court is adjourned!”

* * *

 

**October 19, 2016**

**2:47 PM**

**District Court**

**Defendant Lobby No. 1**

 

“Oh sweet Lord, that was close,” Michael said as soon as the doors to the defendant’s lobby shut behind him.

“We were saved by a hair, but that's all that counts,” said Angelica, pushing dark strands out of her face. “I thought seriously about going home about three times during the trial.”

_ Where exactly is home for you now, anyway? _

“Really?” asked Cassie. She fiddled with a piece of her hair. “You both seemed so... so confident!” Michael let out a laugh.

“Maybe I should take up a career in acting?” he joked. “I was ready to pronounce you dead about three times back there.”

“Me too!”

“D-Dead?!” Michael’s face fell flat. That wasn’t probably the best thing to say to his client.

“Relax, Cassie,” he said quickly before the actress could get worked up, “Angie and I were only kidding.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely!”

_ I wasn't kidding. _

Michael approached his client, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Cassie,” he said. “We have to go make our final investigation. But I promise you, we’ll find the true killer by tomorrow!”

“R-Right!” said Cassie, giving a little nod. “Thanks.” She sniffed, putting forward the upbeat attitude that was radiating from her lawyer and his channeled mentor.

Michael swore to every fiber of his being that Cassie was innocent. Now, they had one more shot to prove it. And Michael definitely wasn’t going to throw it away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not apologizing for those last two lines. No way.


	11. Five Years Ago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final day of investigation and Michael's last shot at proving Cassie innocent. However, Michael never expected his evidence to come from the darkest depths of Global Studios' history: a fatal accident occurring over five years ago...

**October 19, 2016**

**3:27 PM**

**Mell & Co. Law Offices**

 

The door to Mell & Co. slammed shut as Michael and his partner entered the building. He loosened the tie around his neck. The thrill of the courtroom was gone, leaving the attorney drained. He was tired, but relieved that they managed to get another day.

“That was a close one, huh, Angie?” Michael said, walking over to his desk. 

“Really? Too bad. Sorry that I missed it.” Michael did a complete turn. Angelica was gone from her sister’s body, leaving a refreshed Eliza standing before him.

“E-Eliza! When did you…?”

“I woke up on the drive back here. Didn’t you notice?” Michael shook his head.

_ No, not really. _

Michael quickly caught Eliza up on everything that happened at the trial, from Zach’s testimony to the breaking revelation provided by Red. She hung onto every word like Michael was reading aloud a Stephen King novel.

“So, what’s next?” she asked once Michael was done with his tale.

“Well, I think I’ve got a pretty good idea about who did it,” said Michael. “Now all I need is the right evidence and a motive.” He sighed. “Unfortunately because of the initial trial system, tomorrow is the last day we have. We have to find both today.” Michael made his way over to the door. He was stopped by Eliza grabbing his jacket sleeve.

“Initial trial?” she asked. “What’s that?” Michael blinked.

_ Shit. Forgot. Eliza doesn’t know most lawyer terms. You know, considering her sister and her fiancé are both lawyers, I’m kinda surprised. _

“It’s this new court system they introduced a few  years ago,” Michael explained as he and Eliza left the office, “They had so many cases in the system, they decided to speed the whole process up.”

“So… under that system… trials have to end in three days or less?” Eliza summarized. Michael nodded as he approached his car.

“Yeah, pretty much.” He unlocked the driver’s side door. “Come on, Eliza. Time’s a-wastin’!”

* * *

**October 19, 2016**

**3:58 PM**

**Global Studios**

**Main Gate**

 

When Michael and Eliza arrived at Global Studios, they were greeted with a quiet Pauline Fleming. Not even minor comments from Eliza could get her to speak. It wasn't until the spirit medium apprentice reached for the box of donuts in the guard station did she speak.

“You eat, you die,” said the security guard.

“Oh thank God, she’s alive.” With that knowledge secure, Michael went on to ask the security guard about what she knew on the facts revealed at the trial that day.

“Um… I was wondering about Velma Kelly… the producer,” Michael asked her. Fleming easily gave her up.

“The studio bigwigs  _ love _ her,” she said. “She always gets her way.”

_ She seems bitter… _

“Do you… not like the producer…?” Eliza asked, eyebrow raised. 

“Look, the studio people don’t want me talking about her, but I think you can guess.” Michael sighed. He guessed the answer to the question was a big, fat yes.

“Can I ask you about Zach Douglas? The director?” he said. Fleming was more than cooperative. 

“Zach? He‘s a pushover. Does whatever Kelly tells him to. She treats him like dirt, but I think he likes it, despite his relationship.” Michael and Eliza blinked at the last statement.

“Huh?” asked Eliza. “Relationship?” Fleming stared at the both of them.

“Didn’t you know?” she said. Michael shook his head. The look on the woman’s face just read ‘gossip’. “Cassie and Zach are quite the item around here.” Michael felt his eyes grow wide. “It’s mostly why people say she got the role of the Iron Maiden. Her boyfriend is the director.”

“Wow,” Michael said. “I… They really don’t look like a couple.”

“Oh, but believe me. They are. They usually eat together too. Why, Zach even tried to leave Studio Two on the day of the murder just to do so. As you know, the path was blocked, so he tried to go through the woods nearby, but there wasn’t enough time. So, he ate alone.”

_ Well, that explains Zach’s behavior on the stand today… and his behavior yesterday…  _

“Um… Ms. Fleming? About Mr. Kelly…” Michael trailed off. Fleming grew angry, her face going red and dagger-like eyes stabbing Michael.

“I heard what you said today!” she barked. Michael took a small step back. “Cheeky little… Poor old Kelly! You’d drag his star down from the sky and stomp on it! Calling him a criminal! A thief! I-I-I-I… I won't forget this!”

_ Uh oh, she's really pissed this time! _

Michael took a few more steps back. As soon as he was about a few feet away, the slow walk he was taking turned into a sprint.

“Eliza, go!” Sure enough, Eliza was right in front of him.

“Already two steps ahead of you!”

* * *

 

**October 19, 2016**

**4:07 PM**

**Global Studios**

**Employee Area**

 

As soon as they were far enough away from the main gate, Michael and Eliza started their final investigation. They were prepared to be kicked out by the people in the Employee Area when they arrived. Like the days before, it was empty.

“Guess they’re still not filming yet,” said Eliza with a shrug. “I did want to see them. Just once.” Michael put a hand on her shoulder.

“The trial will be over and done by tomorrow,” he said. Eliza flicked his fingers off. “You can come see them then.”

“I guess…” Eliza wandered over to the table over on the side. “This is where we found that bottle of sleeping pills, right?” Michael nodded. Eliza picked up one of the plates. Michael still cringed at the fact that no one had bothered to move the fly-covered bones from them. “I wonder if there are any other clues lying around…”

A loud screech almost made Eliza drop the dish. She had carefully placed it on the table when the source of the sound came rushing up. Michael was starting to think that Detective Tiggular was following them.

“Er… sorry, Miss Schuyler,” said the man with a sincerely apologetic look. “Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“D-Didn’t mean… I almost had a heart attack!” TIggular laughed nervously.

“Sorry. I guess I can be a little… dramatique at times…” Michael rolled his eyes.

_ "Dramatique" indeed…  _

“Anyway, I'm here to examine the plate on that table.” Michael blinked.

“Wait, are you here to look for traces of sleeping pills?” Michael asked, surprised when Tiggular nodded. He hadn’t expected that his argument in court would actually do something.

“You’re looking for traces of sleeping pills… how?” asked a curious Eliza.  Tiggular grinned. He reached into his coat.

“Though, normally I’d have to bring the plate back to the precinct for a thorough examination by the science guys,” he said. “I can… here it is!” Tiggular pulled out a spray bottle filled with a clear, almost alcoholic-looking liquid. Michael was sure there was a pocket dimension in Tiggular‘s coat. There had to be no logic way he carried that in a pocket. 

“I can make a cursory examination here!” said the detective proudly. “I got a guy down in forensics to whip this up for me. It reacts to traces of sleeping medications. It’ll change color if it finds it.”

“Neat,” said Eliza, punctuating her T. “So… what are you waiting for?” Eliza pushed what Michael hoped was Cassie’s plate in front of the detective.

“Calm down. I’m doing it now.”

It took only a few, silent filled minutes after Tiggular sprayed on the testing fluid for anything to happen. The once clear solution had turned a startling shade of blue.

“Well… the testing solution on the plate changed color alright.”

“So… I take it with this evidence, the investigation is going good?” Michael asked. It was a casual question, but it made Tiggular tense up.

“To tell the truth… it’s a real mess,” said the detective as he crossed his arms over his chest. “There are some people who think we should go with the case we already have against Ferguson. Others think we should switch suspects all together!”

“And, what do you think, Detective Tiggular?” asked Eliza, copying his pose.

“Well… I hate to admit it but…” he sighed, “I’m not sure that I buy that case against Ms. Ferguson any more. I feel kinda bad for Mr. Heere, though.” Michael stared at him.

“How is Jeremy, anyway?” he asked. Tiggular took no expense in the details of the subject.

“Mr. Heere is out of control! He was in the waiting room in between sessions, and I saw him crush a paper cup filled with hot coffee in his hands.” Michael cringed. “Exactly. Talk about burns. If it were a water bottle, I'd been fine with that. But hot coffee all over your hand… yikes.”

“The fury of Heere…” Eliza remarked.

“Yeah,” murmured Michael. “Crushing paper cups and pulling out updated autopsy reports…”

_ Cups… bottles…? Wait. _

“Say, what ever happened to the empty bottle?” Michael asked out of curiosity.

“Oh,” said Detective Tiggular before grinning. “Well, I got some good news about that. You were right. Charlie Kelly’s prints were all over that thing. Sounds like to me that Cassie was drugged by none other than the victim himself!”

_ So I was right! One point for me. _

Tiggular picked up the plate from off of the table. Michael watched as he withdrew an evidence bag, tucking the plate safely inside of it.

“I’m going back to the precinct to get some more… detailed tests,” said the Detective when Eliza asked what he was doing.

“You’re being very…” said Eliza, sucking in air through her teeth, “free with your information today, Tiggular.”

“Well… don’t tell anyone this but… I was actually kind of impressed at today’s trial.” Tiggular grinned. “Most lawyers would’ve given up after that director’s testimony. I think if it's been anyone but you up there, Ferguson would be done for by now.”

Michael felt his confidence climb as high as Mount Everest.

* * *

 

**October 19, 2016**

**4:19 PM**

**Global Studios**

**Main Gate**

 

With their investigation coming to an end, Eliza and Michael started to leave the studios. Well, that had been their plan. It would have worked if Fleming hadn’t caught them. Her rant about them walking around like the on the place turned into a rant about Velma Kelly. Michael and Eliza looked at each other. The security lady had a deep grudge against Mrs. Kelly.

“Umm… Miss Fleming,” said Michael, cutting her off mid-tirade. “Why  _ exactly _ do you hate Velma Kelly so much?” The more Michael thought about the producer, the more curious he got about  _ why _ she was producer. She was a dancer. It didn’t make much sense. “Does it have anything to do with why she’s the producer?” The woman was silent for only a moment.

“Who told!?” said Fleming. Michael took a step back. “Who did you hear that from!?”

“I, uh… you, actually.” Fleming faltered. “Well, you and Zach… Anyway, what happened?”

“You… you…” Fleming growled, letting anger build back up. “Trying to dredge up dirt on someone’s past like that… and on the recently departed, no less! Have you no shame?! Do you think this is fun?!”

“N-No!” Michael held up his hands defensively. “I’m just trying to do my job to protect Cassie.”

_ So the reason has something to do with the victim? Interesting…  _

“Oh, protect Cassie! How exactly are you doing that? Claiming that Charlie stole her costume, that’s how! You expect me to believe that trash?! Or do you have some kind of proof?!”

_ Proof that Mr. Kelly stole Cassie’s costume? Hmm… _

“I'm sorry Ms. Fleming, but I do have proof,” Michael said with a sigh. “I found an empty bottle in the Employee Area where Cassie and Mr. Kelly ate the day of the murder.”

“What?” said Fleming, confused. “What's a little empty bottle supposed to prove?”

“It was a bottle of sleeping pills. The test results came back as positive for Mr. Kelly’s fingerprints.” Fleming’s hardened guise cracked from a fraction of a second.

“Wh-What does that prove? I… I'm sure old Kelly had some sleepless nights! Where's your proof that he used those pills on Ferguson?”

“There were traces of powder from those pills on the plate Cassie ate off of on the day of the murder.” Ms. Fleming was quiet. “You can’t deny it. Mr. Kelly drugged Cassie.” The middle-aged woman sighed. “Ms. Fleming?”

“Okay,” she said. She was placid with the attorney for once. “Okay. You win. I’ll tell you. I’ll talk. I’m tired of holding it all in. I hate Mrs. Kelly because of what she did to Charlie.”

“What she did…” Eliza repeated. “What did she do…?”

“Poor, poor Kelly. You did wrong, Charlie, rest your soul.”

“Ms. Fleming…?” The security woman sniffed, biting back her own emotions.

“Something did happen. Five years ago there was an accident… a fatal accident while filming that involved Charlie. He… a man died because of an accident he caused. What's worse, a paparazzi took a photo of it. That photo, well, it caused quite a stir. And guess who made it all better? Velma Kelly! She has ties to the mafia… She silenced that paparazzi. That was just the beginning. After that, she became a force to be reckoned with here at the studio. She made her way up from lowly dancer to studio producer to protect her husband.” 

“I… I see…” Michael, unlike Eliza, didn't comment on the story. He had gears turning in his head. An idea was in the making.

“You have to understand,” said Fleming. “Charlie didn't mean to do harm to anyone!” She bit her lip. “Hold on a minute.” Michael watched as she dashed into the guard station. Only a few seconds had passed by the time she returned. She thrusted something into Michael’s hands. It made his eyes widen. It was a photo. Shown in it was Charlie Kelly and his wife. They stood on the top of the Studio Two’s trailer steps. They were looking on in shock and horror as the body of an actor was skewered on top of the fence post.

“This is the picture,” said the security woman. “Charlie was supposed to fight with a bad guy on the top of those stairs, there. He pushed the other actor, and the man fell onto the flower box fence.” Michael didn’t take his eyes off of the photograph.

“B-But…” he stuttered, finally saying something. “How did you get this?”

“It… was a long time ago.” Fleming looked to the ground. “I don’t feel like talking about it.”

“I understand…” Michael slid the photo into his jacket’s pocket. He knew one person that would talk about it. Hopefully, if she was given the push in the right direction.

He and Eliza headed to Studio Two.

* * *

 

**October 19, 2016**

**4:31 PM**

**Studio Two Entrance**

 

Their target was standing right outside of Studio Two. Once again, Velma Kelly didn't utter a word. She just stared up at the clouds. Eliza tried several times to get her attention, all of them ending in failure. It wasn't until Michael presented the photograph he was given that Velma reacted.

“Where?” she simply said, not looking to the pair.

“Excuse me?” said Michael, lowering the photo. Velma Kelly turned on her heel to face them. Her eyes were narrowed.

“Where did you get that?” Michael glanced down at the picture.

“I… well…”

“Fleming,” said Mrs. Kelly with a groan.

“Huh?”

“She means the security lady,” Eliza whispered to Michael’s ear. “Ms. Fleming.” Michael nodded.

“Right…” Michael said before sighing himself. “Anyway, Mrs. Kelly. You hid this incident from the press… didn't you?”

“... The wind.”

“The… huh?”

“It's gotten stronger, don't you think? The wind…” Velma headed for the trailer. When she was at the door, she looked back at the attorney. “Your conversation interests me. Let's talk about it more inside the trailer.” Michael and Eliza exchanged a look with one another. Michael could feel a pit hit the bottom of his stomach. The feeling grew when he and Eliza actually stepped inside the trailer. Michael stood by the door, keeping it propped open with his heel.

“Well then, you actually came.” Mrs. Kelly lit another cigarette as she spoke. “What was it you wanted to talk about again?”

_ Why is she so eager to talk all of a sudden? I have a bad feeling... _

“About your husband,” said Michael, repeating their reason for being there. “You were using the accident to blackmail and control him, weren’t you?”

“Hmph… So I'm a blackmailer now?”

“Technically speaking,” said Eliza. She hadn’t left Michael’s side yet. “I mean, sure it was an accident, but you still used it against him. You pulled down his star.” Velma Kelly rolled her eyes.

“My husband’s career went sour of its own accord.”

“But you were the cause of it! You pressured him over an accident! What kind of marriage do you think—” Velma flicked her cigarette in Eliza’s direction, the ashes narrowly missing her skirt.

“You keep saying it was an accident. How are you so sure about that?” Michael drew tense.

“What do you mean?” Velma rolled her eyes again. She took steps closer to the attorney and the spirit medium.

“Must I spell everything out for you?” she said, harshness dripping into her voice, “What would it be if it wasn’t an accident?”

_ If it wasn’t an accident, then Mr. Kelly pushed the man on purpose. Wait. _

“You mean he  _ meant _ to kill his co-star?” Michael exclaimed as the thought dawned on him. The producer nodded. “Wh-Where’s the proof?! Can you prove it?!”

“Just think!” snapped the producer. “Why would he let me run his life for five years over a mere accident? And I ran him hard, married or not.” Michael could see Eliza’s expression turn sour.

“The security lady said it was an accident!” she said, not showing a moment of hesitation.

“She was a big fan of Charlie. She jumped on the reporter who brought that photo to the studio and wretched it out of his hands. Gave him a few bruises, too. Why do you think that she would believe it was an accident?”

_ So that's why she had the photo… _

“She’s an old fool,” Velma continued on, flicking her cigarette so the ashes hit the ground. “Of course, all that reporter would need is the negatives. He could have easily made another copy… but he didn’t, not after I was done with him. The only copy of that photo is the one you have now.” Velma held out her hand. “Give it to me.” Michael had a hand over the pocket that held the photo. He inched closer to the door.

“No way!” shouted Eliza, translating what Michael’s body language was saying. “You want it? Come and get it!” Michael kicked open the door. He and Eliza scrambled out of the trailer.

“Boys!” The pair weren’t even down the steps when they found themselves surrounded by a group of men.

“Um…” Michael said, feeling something start to rise in his throat. “Who are they…?”

“Professionals,” said Velma Kelly. She was standing in the doorway, a smirk on her face. “They're good at erasing various things. Including people.”

“Wh-What?!”

“The trial ends tomorrow. It’s a shame you’ll have to miss it.” Michael grew tenser as the men started to get closer. 

“Tell me why!” he said, looking back at the producer. “Why do you want the photograph so badly? Why should you even care about it?” Velma flicked her cigarette in his direction, the ashes landing on his jacket.

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to find out where you’re going. Boys, erase away.” The men closed in on the two. One of them seized Eliza, pulled her down off of the steps with a shriek.

“Get your hands off of her!” Michael ran down, trying to get the man who had Eliza to let her go. Instead, he found himself a target. He could tell who it was, and he frankly didn’t care, as he felt someone try to reach inside of his jacket while another held him down.

“Michael!” There was a harsh and heavy smack from wood hitting flesh. Michael pulled himself out of the hold he was in, landing harshly on the ground as the result. He slid a few feet away. As he righted himself, he saw Eliza running towards him, her sandal in her hand. Michael got up, prepared to run as the hired men came closer once more. Luckily, he didn’t have to.

“HOLD IT!” Michael was never so reviled to hear Detective Tiggular rushing up behind him. “I come here to do my job, and what the heck do I walk in on?! This! I heard everything. Velma Kelly, you’re coming down to the precinct  _ now. _ ” A petite woman who was with Tiggular sped so quickly to the front, Michael didn’t get a good look at her face. She handcuffed Velma Kelly, knocking the blasted cigarette out of her hand. The men, once so bold, scattered like scared rabbits.

“Not bad…” said Kelly as the woman lead her away. “It appears this little contest will be decided tomorrow then. In court.” She flashed Michael a sickening grin before the woman made her leave the studio grounds. “I'll be looking forward to it, Mr. Michael Mell.” Her laugh would haunt Michael’s dreams that night.

“H-Hey.” Michael was drawn back to reality by Tiggular shaking his shoulder. “You okay? Sorry for being a little late on my entrance there. I was out with a rookie and uh… well… I got distracted.” Michael nodded.

“A few bruises on the both of us, maybe a scratch, but that’s about it,” he said, a tender feeling growing a the shoulder Tiggular had touched. “You showed up before things got worse. Thanks.”

“Detective Tiggular…” said Eliza as she slid her shoe back on. She sighed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Huh? Uh… Don’t mention it.” Detective Tiggular had a large grin on his face.  “Just doing my job… You know, I’ve always wanted to say that ever since I became a detective.” Eliza giggled, hiding it with the palm of her hand.

“Again. Thank you.”

_ Well, look at that. It only took the possibility of being beaten by the mob to get Eliza and Detective Tiggular to get along. Hmm… speaking of the detective. _

“Um… Detective,” said Michael, breaking up the sweet moment. “What were you doing nearby anyway?” Tiggular blinked before realizing what Michael said.

“Oh! Right!” he said before reaching into his coat. He pulled out a stack of papers. He held them out to Michael. “The rookie and I were going to question Kelly about these. They were found in her trailer when it was searched earlier today. We found it in the trash.” Michael took the papers. He read it over.

“Huh?” he muttered. Eliza leaned over his shoulder. “These are…” Eliza snatched the papers from his hand.

“They’re divorce papers…” she finished. Michael could have sworn that she had seen more than enough divorce papers to recognize them so quickly. “Why would these be in Mrs. Kelly’s trailer?” Detective Tiggular shrugged as Eliza gave the papers back to Michael. He continued skimming through them. His eyes widened as he realized what the one thing written down on the papers and what was missing from them.

_ No way! These have Mr. Kelly’s signature on them! But… if these are divorce papers… where's Mrs. Kelly’s signature? _

Michael shook his head.

“Uh… Thank you, Detective,” said Michael as he tucked the papers under his arm. Tiggular looked proud of himself.

“Okay,” he said what a nod. “I’ve got one more job to do today. I'm sure we'll run into each other again soon!” Michael watched as Detective Tiggular ran off. It was a few moments later that he and Eliza started to leave Studio Two themselves.

“Well, Michael,” said Eliza as they made their way to the parking lot. “It looks like we’re getting close to the bottom of this.”

_ And who's at the bottom...? Velma Kelly! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that woman Fiyero was with. She will appear later on in Turnabout Goodbyes.


	12. Of Lying Producers and Unnecessary Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time has come. The evidence is all here, and Michael is ready to convict Velma Kelly on the witness stand. If only she wasn't being so difficult. Can he prove Cassie's innocence with only one day left? Or will he required a little bit of surprise help to do it?

**October 20, 2016**

**10:00 AM**

**District Court**

**Courtroom No. 4**

 

Michael felt incredibly tense standing in that courtroom. The woman who had tried to kill him and Eliza was just waiting to take the stand and wound his pride. He didn’t know what she was planning, but that smile on Velma Kelly’s face as she was being lead away in handcuffs the day before wouldn’t leave his mind’s eye. Michael didn’t snap out of his nightmarish daydream until the trial was called into session.

Michael really shouldn’t have been worrying. He had the evidence he needed. If he could just present it at the right moment and get Cassie off the hook, everything would be perfect. However, if that was the case, then why was he dreading his cross-examination?

“Mr. Heere, your opening statement.” Jeremy was shaking as he spoke.

“In yesterday’s session, the defense presented us with a theory,” he said, recapping the story so far. “He claims that the scene of the crime was Studio Two rather the Studio One, as everyone had thought. Today, I will call on someone present in the studio’s trailer on the day in question. From her testimony, the truth will become clear.”

“Hmm… very well!”

_ Jeremy seems a bit on edge today… I wonder why…? _

The prosecution quickly called  _ her _ to the stand. Michael felt a chill run down his spine as Velma Kelly made eye contact with him. The smirk on her face didn’t help calm him down at all.

“On the day of the murder, you were in the trailer at Studio Two, correct?” Jeremy asked the witness.

“As everyone here already knows, yes,” said Velma. Jeremy stared at her. She rolled her eyes, distaste plain on her face. “I dislike needless banter. If you must lecture someone, do it when I’m not here.” Jeremy let out a small squeak. Velma didn’t drop her hideous attitude as she gave her testimony.

_ If she’s guilty, I’ll catch her. I've got to. _

“I entered the trailer… oh, a little before noon. The meeting began at 12:00 sharp. It ended at 4:00. There was to be a rehearsal afterwards, so we went to Studio One…” Velma told the court,  “I felt faint, so I had Zach take me. At 2:30, we took a fifteen minute break in the meeting. I ate a t-bone steak on the table in front of the trailer. Zach had tried to leave, but couldn't because the path was blocked. He returned a few minutes after I was done to finish eating himself. We found Charlie’s body later, when we all went to Studio One.” Michael blinked.

_ That’s all? _

“I have a question about one part of your testimony,” said the Judge before Michael could start his cross-examination. “Um… you had Zach ‘take you’?”

“There’s a van at Studio Two. I had him take me in that. I thought it might be risky to walk, what with that monkey's head toppling over.”

_ I remember that van. Eliza wanted to steal it. She later said that it was better than my current car. Again, why do people feel the need to insult my baby? _

“This is the final battle, Michael!” said Eliza to the defense attorney after the Judge gave him the signal to start his cross-examination. “Let’s do it!” Michael nodded.

_ Right _ .

He shook out the horrible feeling lingering in his body before pressing Velma Kelly’s statements.

“Do you have someone who can verify your claims?” he asked her. “Such as you eating lunch during the break?”

“Zach,” was the only thing Velma said. Michael groaned.

“No, I mean… You know… someone  _ else _ ?”

_ Besides, didn’t you say that Zach left the studio to try to get to the Employee Area?! He wasn't even a witness here! _

“One person is enough.”

_ If she committed murder during that break... She wouldn’t have had time to eat a t-bone steak! If I had some evidence that proved she didn’t eat that steak… Wait a sec. _

“OBJECTION!” Michael shouted, a large grin on his face. “Ah-hah! Just as I thought.” Michael crossed over to the evidence table in the middle of the courtroom. “You claim that you ate a t-bone steak, correct?”

“Wh-What is this now, Mr. Mell?” asked the Judge. Michael picked up the piece of evidence that had not been presented at court yet. The plate from the Employee Area. The blue stains where the chemical had reacted yesterday were still on it.

“Look at this.” Michael held the plate up to the judge.

“It’s a… a plate?”

“Correction: it was the plate that Cassie ate off of on the day of the murder. Like the rest of the plates, there was a large bone left on it.” Michael put the plate down on the table. He walked back over to the defense’s bench.

“Mr. Mell,” sad an exasperated Jeremy, “May I remind you that it was a  _ t-bone steak _ ?! There’s going to be a bone!”

“Exactly my point,” said Michael, turning to face the prosecution. “Remember if you will, Mr. Heere. Both Mrs. Kelly and Mr. Douglas ate steaks as well outside of the trailer. Yet, there is only one bone left on the plate. Mr. Douglas told us that he disposed of his own food himself, and that bone proves it. That means that the other one… the empty one… belonged to you.” Michael laid his eyes on Velma Kelly. The only move that she made was growing stiffer than she had already been. “Well, Mrs. Kelly? Tell me. How can a person eat a t-bone steak and not leave a bone? I think that you didn’t eat any steak during that break. You took your steak and threw it somewhere… like a fire or something!”

“I… It is possible…” Jeremy piped up from the other side of the courtroom. “There is an incinerator on the Studio Two lot, and fairly close to the trailer I might add.” Kelly only grew more intense.

“I… I see!” said the Judge. “Then what was Mrs. Kelly doing during her break?”

“Isn’t it obvious, Your Honor?” said Michael. “She was meeting with the Iron Maiden.”

“A-Are you saying...?!”

“Yes, Your Honor! As Mrs. Kelly left the trailer to eat her steak, she ran into the Iron Maiden! And then…” Michael turned to the witness. “Then you did it. You killed your husband with your own hands!” Velma Kelly didn't speak a word.

“M-Mr. Mell! I-Isn’t that a little presumptuous!?”

“OBJECTION!” Jeremy shouted before Michael could explain the situation to the court.  “What exactly are you talking about Mr. Mell?” Once again, Michael was interrupted before he could speak. Though, it wasn’t from a member of the court.

“Let him claim what he wants,” said Velma Kelly from the stand, finally speaking up. “You say that I did it?” Michael nodded.

“Yes.” His voice never once wavered.

“Fascinating! And here I was thinking that today would be as boring as the rest.” Her confidence and snark had returned, making Michael’s diminish. “Very well. Let’s have a battle of wits, you and I.”

_ Any day, Kelly… any day…  _

“Let’s see… What was that murder weapon again? Oh yes, the ‘Samurai Spear’. That was it, right?”

“Yes…?” said Michael, raising an eyebrow. What was she getting at?

“I am, as you can see, a woman of petite stature. Answer me this: how could I possibly use that heavy spear as a weapon?” 

Michael hadn't thought of that. He looked down at his court record, staring at the notes on the case so far. His own messy handwriting among the neatly typed print made him look up at the evidence table. The murder weapon took up a majority of it. A thick wrapping of silver around the spear’s shaft brought up past testimony in Michael’s head.

“I think you would have a pretty hard time using that as a weapon,” said Michael as he shut his court record. “I think anyone would, actually.” The smirk on Kelly’s face was only matched by Michael’s.

“Hah,” she scoffed. “You see?”

“However… that has no bearing on this current case.” Kelly’s cheeky grin broke.

“...meaning what?”

“I purpose that the Samurai Spear was not the real murder weapon!”

“What?!” The Judge brought down his gavel.

“What is the meaning of this?!” he called out. “The spear was found lying next to the victim’s body!” Michael felt his confidence spike.

“The evidence is right in front of us; it’s the so-called murder weapon itself!”

“Wait” said Jeremy, pausing the proceedings with a raise of his hand. He stared at Michael. “Mell, that  _ is _ this murder weapon!”

“Yes, according to the court. But you have to remember; the very same spear broke during the morning action scene run-though. However, our favorite security lady fixed it with duct tape! Now tell me, how is it possible for someone to stab a man wearing a thick costume with that?! It would break again from the pressure!” Michael could see the small expression of shock on the prosecutor’s face.

“Mr. Mell! What are you talking about?! Think about what you’re―” There was a bang. It wasn’t Michael or Jeremy who slammed their hands on the bench; it was Velma Kelly, who had just hit the witness stand.

“Silence!” she hissed. “I’m the one testifying here and I will be heard!” Jeremy slunk back against the back of the bench, muffling a yell with his hand. Michael didn’t back down. “Are you insane? Are you even hearing yourself? If the Samurai Spear was not the murder weapon, then what was?! How was my Charlie killed?!” Michael had to think about that.

“Well, Mr. Mell?” sad the Judge after a moment. “Can you tell us what weapon was used to kill Mr. Kelly?” Michael let go of a choked breath.

“Would I make a claim if I couldn’t back it up?” he responded, keeping his tone cool.

“I’m afraid your confidence can sometimes be unfounded, Mr. Mell.” Michael didn’t listen. He pulled out a photo from his record. It was the same photo that Velma Kelly had tried oh so desperately to take from him yesterday.

“Take a look at this.” He presented the photo the court.

“W-What is this? Why, that’s Charlie Kelly standing at the top of the stairs! Mr. Mell! What is this all about!?” Michael lowered the picture.

“This picture was taken five years ago,” the defense attorney explained. “There was an… unfortunate accident at Global Studios that someone managed to catch on film. That’s what is shown here. It was a close-kept secret at the studios; not a word of it was leaked to the press.”

“What does this have to do with the current case!?” asked Jeremy, sounding both annoyed at this new prospect and generally confused.

“Mr. Heere…” Michael sighed. “Can’t you see?” He showed the picture to the prosecution again. “Look at the fencepost. It pierced the man right through the chest.” Jeremy’s eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. Now he was getting it.

“Wh… what?! A-Are you saying what I think you are?!” Michael nodded.

“Yes. What happened five years ago, ironically, has happened again!” Michael glanced over the witness stand. Velma Kelly looked close to cracking. One more push would set her over the edge. He returned his focus to the trial. “It was 2:30 PM on the day of the murder. Shortly after watching Zach leave, Mrs. Velma Kelly met with Charlie Kelly outside the Studio Two trailer.” Michael could envision the events playing out in his head. “That’s when she did it. She pushed Mr. Kelly off of the stairs and onto the fence, just like her husband had done five years ago! Though whether she did it on purpose or by accident, I cannot say.”

“I-In other words… th-the victim…” Jeremy stuttered, summarizing Michael’s point for him. “He died the exact same way he killed another five years ago!” Michael nodded once more.

“Ironic, isn’t it?” To Michael’s surprise, instead of breaking down and confessing like he expected, Velma chuckled. He didn’t take it as a good sign. 

“Very creative, Mr. Mell,” she said, the smirk returning. “I could use a man like you on my script writing staff.” Michael and Eliza exchanged looks before looking back to Velma Kelly.

“You’re not denying it.” The witness rolled her eyes.

“Okay. Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that Charlie died at the trailer as you say. The body was found at Studio One. And in the Evil Magistrate’s costume. Are you claiming that I carried the body to studio one, switched the costumes and returned to the trailer all in the space of a fifteen minute break?! How could I have disposed the body without being caught?!” Michael opened his mouth to speak. No words came out. The lawyer hadn’t thought about that.

Michael quickly ran through everything he knew about the trial thus far. 

“The break in the meeting  _ did _ last fifteen minutes…” Jeremy repeated, not taking his eyes off of the defense bench and both people who stood there. “There wasn’t enough time to dispose of the body… Well, Mell? How did she do it?” He sounded sincerely curious.

“What if…” Michael said, saying his thoughts out loud. “What if she had another way to carry the body? Other with her own hands?”

“For instance…?” mused Velma. Only one thing struck Michael as possible.

“For instance, what if there was no need for her to do the deed in fifteen minutes?” Michael could see Kelly’s disguise crack. “There would be no way for her to carry the body then!”

“I-Interesting…” said the witness. She was starting to crumble. “Let’s hear it then.” Michael smirked. He thought it ironic that it would be Velma’s own words that would cause her downfall.

“The Studio van.” She clenched her hands into a pair of fists. “Recall your own testimony. You used the van to take yourself to Studio One. Inside was the body. Once there, you changed Mr. Kelly into his costume and faked the crime scene once you were alone!” Michael knew Kelly’s expression meant that he was right.

“OBJECTION!” Jeremy shouted, bringing Michael’s attention to him. “Hold on, Mell. It was Zach Douglas that drove the van. Are you suggesting that Mr. Douglas was a conspirator?” Michael knew of Zach’s relationship with the defendant. There was no way he would frame her for murder.

“Not intentionally,” said Michael. “He was only the driver. The body was in the van without his knowledge.”

“But what about the body? It had to be placed into the van… put in the costume… how was that done?” Michel didn’t have to think about that.

“Recall that Mrs. Kelly has a background as a dancer. I don't know about anyone else, but dancers do have to possess an incredible amount of strength to perform a handful of stunts and moves… including carrying people,” Michael explained. “So, she was easily able to pick up Mr. Kelly's body before Mr. Douglas returned and caught her. Also, don’t forget that she had to get rid of the Iron Maiden costume. It was covered in blood. She most likely burned it in that small incinerator.” Michael narrowed his eyes on the woman. “Well, Mrs. Kelly? Shall I continue?” Velma sighed. Her fingers twitched.

“There is no need,” she said, not meeting either lawyer. “You’re smarter than you look, Mr. Mell. I lose. You win. It was…” She grinned. “It was fun.” Michael blinked.

_ I... win!? … _

There was silence in the courtroom. Michael was still trying to process what had just happened. In all the trials he had been apart of either as witness, defendant, bystander or otherwise, this was not normal.

“Um…” Michael mused. “So… what happens next?” Velma gave Michael a look. “Don’t you have anything else to say?”

“What would you like me or say?”

“I don’t know. Something like ‘I lost’?!”

“I just said that.” Michael groaned, pinching at the bridge of his nose. Every guilty witness he was involved with usually was so stubborn to avoid confessing their guilt. Compared to his past two trials, this confession just seemed lackluster. That’s when it hit.

“So, I'm right?! It was you!? You killed Charlie Kelly!?” There was quiet from the other court members. Velma shrugged.

“Who can say?” she said. Michael stared at her. “Are you sure that I did. Mr. Mell, we just engaged in a battle of wits. The results of that battle? You proved the possibility that I murdered Charlie. But… that is only a possibility. Proof is another thing altogether.” She chuckled. “You lack decisive proof, Mr. Mell.”

“Wh… What?!” There was an uproar in the court. Michael could barely hear any of it. He cured at himself. He had forgotten that one, tiny detail.

“Mr. Heere?” asked the Judge to the prosecutor. “Your thoughts?”

“Um… uh…” Jeremy said, muttering around his words. He was hesitating. “...I-It does seem very likely that she did it but…” He refused to look up at the bench, grabbing at his jacket’s sleeve instead. “But uh… th-there’s no evidence… A-At least… I'm not sure that there is.”

_ Jeremy isn’t sure?! That has got to be a first. _

“... Well? I came here as a witness today. If you’ve no more questions, I’ll be leaving.”

_ Shit! What do I do now!? _

Michael brought his hands down on the bench again, keeping Velma Kelly from leaving the witness stand.

“Wait!” he cried out, “I’d… I’d like you to testify again!” Velma Kelly rolled her eyes.

“Do you not know when to give up?” she sneered. “What’s the point? I can only say what I said before: the truth. I've already said all there is to say. What would happen if I said it again?”

“Uh…”

“You’d ask the same questions, you get the same answers. It's a waste of time.”

_ Damn it… damn it! To come so far, only to fail… _

“As it seems there are no further questions…” said the Judge at Michael’s silence, “I would like to end the cross-examination of the witness, Mrs. Kelly.” What happened next surprised Michael.

“OBJECTION!” Michael stared at Jeremy as his shout reverberated across the courtroom walls.

“Um… yes, Mr. Heere?” Jeremy’s face went blank.

“I uh…. well, I was hoping to come up with a question while I was objecting, Your Honor… I didn’t.” 

_ Then why did you?! … I really shouldn't be saying anything, should I? _

Before the Judge could called the verdict, Jeremy objected once again.

“Your Honor!” said Jeremy, much more firmly this time. “I request that the witness testify again.” Michael felt his face heat up.

_ He's… he's agreeing with me? _

Velma Kelly did not like that outburst one bit. 

“Aren’t you the prosecutor?” she snapped. “Why are you badgering me? I’m your witness!”

“I…” Jeremy seemed a little bit afraid and uncertain. “I just want to hear your testimony again…” Velma rolled her eyes.

“Does this make any sense?” she asked the Judge. “I don’t see anything to gain by repeating the last several minutes.”

“Mr. Heere…” The Judge buried daggers at Jeremy with the gaze he was giving the prosecutor. “I, too, see little point in making Ms. Kelly repeat herself. What exactly did you want her to testify about?” Jeremy choked out a muffled cry.

“Well, yes… um…” Jeremy muttered, his words loosely threaded together. “Indeed! Verily I say… Ergo!” He cleared his throat, looking down to the floor. “I-I want to hear about what happened… after they found the body.”

“After they found the body…?” Jeremy nodded. The Judge signed. “Very well. The witness will testify to the court about this matter.” Velma was not pleased. Eliza leaned over to Michael, whose face was still red.

“Michael?” she whispered to him, “Why did Prosecutor Heere…?” Michael hadn’t taken his eyes off of the man across from him.

“He probably realized that she did it too,” he whispered back.

“But… but! Wasn’t he the one that said he always gets a guilty verdict...? After all that…” Michael was in the same boat as Eliza. He couldn't understand Jeremy’s actions.

_ Jeremy… Just what are you doing? _

“I was with Zach and Fleming, the security lady, when we found the body. The only person absent was Cassie,” testified a pissed-off Velma. “One of the staff immediately called the police. Then Cassie showed up. Fleming was quite agitated. Pointing at Cassie, she shouted that she did it over and over again. I was in such a state of shock, I asked to be left out of the proceedings. I went back to the trailer to get my script and direction notes. Then I went home.”

“Michael, we’re really close!” said Eliza, keeping her voice hushed despite her current excitement. “Twist the truth out of her!” Michael nodded.

“Right.” He stared at the witness. The testimony ran once more through his head. Only one thing stood out to him.

“So… let me get this straight,” said Michael. “You went back for your script and direction notes?”

“Yes, they’re quite valuable,” Velma replied. “I couldn’t risk getting them stolen.” And there it was.

“Mrs. Kelly, I thought you came to Studio One for rehearsal.” Velma quirked an eyebrow in his direction. “So… answer me this. If there was rehearsal, why didn’t you bring your script and notes with you?”

“Well, there  _ was  _ a murder. I was under the impression that we wouldn’t be able to rehearse anything.”

_ Oh, yeah, I guess… Make some sort of sense. _

“OBJECTION!”

_ Huh? _ Michael stared at the prosecution. This had been the third time he objected to the witness. He wanted to get a guilty verdict, right? So why would the hell he was doing this?

“Your Honor, I have an objection to the witness’s last statement!” said Jeremy. He met eyes with the defense. “Think, Mell! Mrs. Kelly said she didn’t bring the script because there wouldn’t be a rehearsal. Don’t you see what that means? She would have had to know about the murder before going to Studio One!” Kelly’s reaction proved that what Jeremy said was right. The blush returned to Michael’s face.

“Mr. Heere,” said the Judge sternly. “What you have just said… is a reasonable observation.” Jeremy sighed, almost relieved. “However, I find it hard to understand why the prosecution would make such a move! Or are you thinking of a career change to a defense attorney!?”

“... I…” Jeremy didn’t break his stare with Michael. “I appreciate your concern, Your Honor. Regardless of how the court sees my role, I will stand by my statement.” What the prosecutor was doing was finally clear to Michael Mell. He was having a hard time believing it. Jeremy glanced over at Velma. “Mrs. Kelly… do you have an explanation?” The blush only grew darker. 

_ I can’t believe Jeremy is helping me! _

“What kind of court is this?” Kelly growled. “The prosecution is conspiring with the defense? Hmph. It explains how you look at each other.”

_ How exactly do we look at each other…? _

“No matter,” continued Velma Kelly. “You misunderstood me. I had a perfectly good reason to believe that there would be no rehearsal. I knew that Charlie was injured.” Michael blinked.

_ She knew… what? _

“Injured?” Michael repeated, getting a nod from the producer. Oh, she was luring herself into a trap. “How do you know that?”

“H-How did I know?” Velma’s stuttering was a good sign. “It was Zach. He told me.” Michael smirked. She had just triggered the trap.

“OBJECTION!” Michael shouted. “You ‘knew that Charlie was injured’...? Don’t you think that’s a little strange? I mean… it was Cassie Ferguson that was—and currently still is—injured!”

“Wh… What?!”

“Take a look at her leg! She’s still wearing her ankle brace!” Velma was sweating now.The Judge banged his gavel. Michael’s head snapped towards him.

“Mr. Mell!” he bellowed. “Explain yourself!” The lawyer nodded.

“Gladly.” He pulled out the photo that had been taken by the security camera. “Take another look at this. Mr. Kelly is dragging his leg in this picture. The reason? He was pretending to be Ms. Ferguson!”

“P-Pretending?” Velma stuttered. Her hands were shaking as they gripped the witness stand.

“One person and only one person was injured in the run-through that morning.” Michael slammed the photo down on the bench. “That person was Ms. Ferguson, not Mr.Kelly! Now, tell me this. Why did you think that it was your husband who was injured?”

“I… I already said it was Zach who told me!” Michael still found that little fact hard to believe. Zach hated Velma as much as the rest of the studio. Why would he tell her anything unless it was work related? “Th-That’s right! He must have gotten it wrong.” Michael shook his head.

“I think not,” he said, smugness growing. He had this trial in the bag. “Mr. Douglas was at the run-through that morning. He would have known that it was Ms. Ferguson who was actually injured, not Mr. Kelly. He should know because he  _ saw it happen _ ! Why would he tell you the wrong person?” He was oh so close to breaking her. Michael brought his hands down on the bench. “Mrs. Kelly! You didn’t hear anything from Mr. Douglas! You saw Mr. Kelly limping with your own eyes!”

“Yes, but… Wasn’t it Ms. Ferguson who was injured...?” questioned the Judge. Michael nodded.

“Yes, but remember that Mr. Kelly was dragging his leg to sell his act in order to fool everyone into thinking he was Ms. Ferguson!” Michael continued. “And when would he be doing this?” He looked over to Jeremy for an answer.

“Well…” said the prosecutor, a pale shade of pink from being put in the spotlight so suddenly. “It would have been after he put on the Iron Maiden costume and went to Studio Two… when he was murdered…!”

“Exactly. Mrs. Kelly!” Velma was undoubtedly close to breaking now. “You met him, didn’t you? You saw Mr. Kelly limping in that suit! That’s why you were confused! That’s why you thought it was Mr. Kelly who had been injured that morning!”

“Witness?” said Jeremy with a level of coolness and calmness what he only exhibited when the trial was going in his favor. “Can you refuse this claim?” The only noise Velma Kelly made was a low growl, most likely directed at both the prosecution and the defense.

_ Yeah, let’s see you sneak out of this one, Velma Kelly! _

“... Very well! I have a question for you!”

_ Are you kidding me…? Why are the real killers always so… so persistent?! _

“Why in the world would I want Charlie dead?” snapped Velma. “I had nothing to gain from his death! Nothing! Why would I want to kill my husband?!”

“Yes, you would need a motive. Why would she have killed the victim?” asked the Judge. The looks on both lawyers, once so confident, faltered.“If there is a reason, it is unclear to this court. Does the defense have anything to say on the matter? In other words, can you prove she had a motive?”

_ Oh shit. Think, Mell.  _ Michael opened his court record.  _ There has to be something in here. Photos… test results… autopsy… divorce papers… wait, divorce papers? _ Michael picked up the stack. He had forgotten that he had put these in there yesterday. A possibility clicked in his head.

“I present this to the court!” Michael held out the papers. All he got were blank stares.

“These are… papers?

“These papers reveal the motive in this murder! Am I right, Mrs. Kelly?” Velma Kelly growled even louder than before. There was a sense of quiet in the courtroom only to be broken by Michael clearing his throat.

“Five years ago, Mr. Kelly was at the height of his fame,” Michael explained, telling the story as he had pieced together. “With Velma Kelly’s help, a terrible accident was swept under the rug. Ladies and gentlemen, the case currently up for trial began on that day!” Velma had nothing to say. “Ironically enough, that accident precipitated Mr. Kelly’s fall from stardom.

“His guilt weighed him down, no doubt,” added Jeremy. Michael nodded.

“However, Velma Kelly stepped up for him by taking over the studio. She began controlling almost every aspect of his life.” Michael could hear the witness beginning to growl again.

“Which brings us to present day, as well as Mr. Kelly’s final role as the Evil Magistrate.”

“Yes!” Michael didn't know what was going on between him and Jeremy right now, but damn did it feel good working in tandem like this. “It was a constant source of shame for the ex-star. He wanted out… Out of the studio… and out of the relationship.” Michael held up the papers again. “These are divorce papers. Divorce papers, I should add, that have only Mr. Kelly’s signature on them. They were found in the trash of the trailer in Studio Two. My theory is that you—” he turned to Velma Kelly, her anger apparent on her face, “—refused to sign them and threw them away in your anger.”

“One moment, Mr. Mell. “ Michael looked up at the Judge. “We are talking about motives, here… yet you have only talked about Mr. Kelly. It almost seems as if… as if it was Mr. Kelly who had killed Velma Kelly, not the other way around! What motive would Mrs. Kelly have?”

“Y-Yes, that’s right,” said Velma, pushing back her hair. “According to your little theory I have no reason to kill Charlie.”

“Mr. Mell? Please explain Mrs. Kelly’s motive for murder.” There was only possibility that Michael could come up with that could be true.

“She had no motive,” Michael finally concluded.

“What’s that now!?”

“It was Mr. Kelly that was out for blood! Mrs. Kelly murdered him in self-defense when she pushed him off the stairs!” This seemed to be the only thing the prosecution wasn’t on board with.

“What?!” said Jeremy, his shock evident on his face.

“Mr. Kelly was intending to kill his wife!”

“Wha—!? WHAT!?” The entire story was becoming more and more clear with this claim. Everything was starting to fall into place.

“It was Charlie Kelly was the one who drugged Cassie Ferguson so she would pass out. It was Charlie Kelly snuck into her dressing room and stole the Iron Maiden costume,” Michael said, summarizing the facts that the entire case had brought up. “It was Charlie Kelly wore the costume to trick the security lady into thinking he was Ms. Ferguson as he made his way to the trailer! The purpose? To kill Velma Kelly, who had cruelly taken advantage of him all those years and refused to sign the divorce papers. It was the only way left to break off their marriage!” Velma was silent, staring at the ground. Michael put his eyes on her. “You did it. Didn’t you?” There was a stage of suspense as the entire court waited for her answer. Velma sighed.

“Yes,” she said, her voice low and growing in volume as she spoke. “Congratulations, Mr. Mell. I lose.”

Michael felt relief as Velma Kelly was lead away in by the bailiffs. Eliza was more vocal in her solace, loudly sighing and leaning up against the bench. She was smiling.

“Mr. Mell.” Michael looked up to the Judge. He looked pleased.

“Yes, Your Honor?”

“It appears you have brought us yet another miracle.”

“I…” Michael chuckled, sounding a bit like a child. “Thank you, Your Honor.”

“I think not, Your Honor,” said Jeremy. Like Eliza, he was leaning up against the bench. “Cassie Ferguson was innocent. The fact that she should be found so is only natural, not a miracle.”

“... Yes. Yes, you’re right. Very well. This court finds the defendant, Ms. Cassidy Ferguson… Not Guilty!” There was cheering from the court, with Michael and Eliza’s shouts mixing in with the riar. As with Eliza’s trial, confetti rained down from a mysterious source above.  Michael could even see a hesitant grin on Jeremy’s face.

“That is all. The court is adjourned!”

* * *

 

**October 20, 2016**

**1:12 PM**

**District Court**

**Defendant Lobby No. 3**

 

If Michael had to choose, he would have to say that out of everyone who was in that courtroom, Cassie was the happiest with the verdict. When Michael and Eliza met up with her in the defendant’s lobby, she was crying tears of joy. She wrapped her arms around her lawyer, nearly crushing his rib-cage.

“Cassie, I can’t breathe.”

“Erm… Sorry!” Cassie let go of the man, allowing him to draw breath once more. “I just… I don’t know what to say! Thank you so much!” The relaxed smile returned to Michael’s face.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he said. He noticed the sadness that Cassie held in her eyes. “Is something wrong? I thought you were happy.”

“Oh, I am but…” Cassie bit down on her lip. “About my costume… it’s bad enough that Mr. Kelly wanted to kill his wife… but he tried to frame me! It’s sad to think about… but I can’t understand why…” Michael exchange a look with Eliza. Like him, she seemed to think of a pretty good reason on why Cassie had become Mr. Kelly’s scapegoat.

“It was because of you and Zach.” Cassie blinked.

“What do you mean?”

“Fleming told us about you two. I think that Charlie knew. He was most likely jealous of you, seeing as how his marriage had fallen apart. He probably just wanted to inflict the pain on someone else.” Cassie’s eyes dropped to the floor.

“I… I didn’t know.” She sighed. “But… I’m just glad it’s all over.” Michael relaxed.

_ So am I… so am I… _

“Speaking of which,” said Eliza, her grin growing. “Congratulations, Cassie!” Cassie chuckled.

“Thanks to you and Mr. Mell, I’ll be able to be the Iron Maiden once again… I can’t wait to get back into that costume.” Eliza’s face went pale. Apparently Cassie hadn’t been paying that much attention to the trial. “Huh? I-Is something wrong?”

“N-No! No, no, no. ‘Course not!” She laughed nervously. Well… it would be better if someone else told her about the destroyed suit. Eliza yelped as she turned to the door. “M-Michael! Heere!”

“Here what?” Eliza turned Michael around. Standing in the doorway was― “Oh, shit! Jeremy!”

Neither Jeremy or Michael said anything for a moment. Michael felt his heart jump into his throat. Jeremy had his arms crossed over his chest, making it look like he was holding himself. He tugged at the frilled item around his neck. He had an aura of nervousness around him that crept into the other lawyer in the room.

“Say something Mell,” Jeremy said with a sigh. “I’m not good with small talk.” Michael blinked.

“Umm…” There was a thick tension lingering in the air that hadn’t been in the courtroom. “Well… that was too bad, huh Jer— I mean, Mr. Heere.” He wasn’t sure if he should still call the man but his first name anymore. Jeremy hadn’t referred to him by anything but his last name since the trial started. “Your loss and all.” Jeremy rolled his eyes.

“You don’t waste any time gloating, do you?” Michael shifted his stance. That could have been better. He shook his head.

“No, no. I mean… I really wanted to thank you. Velma Kelly would have gotten away with it if you didn’t step in.” Jeremy only hummed in response. Most likely sensing the tension, Cassie stepped forward. She held out her hand to the prosecutor.

“Uh… pleased to meet you!” she said, breaking the awkwardness. Michael silently thanked her. “I’m Cassie. Cassie Ferguson.”

“Jeremy Heere,” replied Jeremy as he shook her hand. If Michael knew better, he could tell that the prosecutor was flustered. He couldn’t blame him. He acted the same way when he first met the actress. “I’m a uh… a big fan of your work.”

_ Ha. Still into the  _ Steel Samurai _ , I see. Well… I shouldn't say anything considering my own position in the fan base. _

“Mell…” Michael blinked. Cassie had stepped back as Jeremy spoke again. He was more nervous than before, fidgeting around with whatever was around his neck and trying to make himself look smaller. “I wanted to say that I… I hadn’t expected to meet you again… especially after… after all these years.”

“Meet again…?” Eliza repeated from behind Michael. Michael ignored her as Jeremy went on.

“In hindsight… it…” He shook his head. “It would have been better if we didn’t meet at all.” Jeremy focused his eyes on Michael’s. “Thanks to you I am saddled with unnecessary… feelings.” Michael felt his heart skip a beat, a pink tint painting his face.

“Unnecessary… feelings?” Michael repeated. He was hoping that his heart was telling the truth about those feelings, even though his mind was slapping him and saying otherwise.

“Yes. Unease and… uncertainty.” Michael deflated. His brain and logic won that argument.

_ Oh…  _

“Aren’t those kind of necessary?” said Michael, trying his best to hide his disappointment.

“They only serve to get in my way.” Jeremy’s words were firm, almost forced. “You listen to me, Michael Mell. Don’t take the cases I’m prosecuting. Don’t show your face to me in the courtroom ever again. You’ll regret the consequences if you do. That’s what I came here to tell you.” And with that, Jeremy turned on his heel and left the defendant's lobby without another word.

Michael was quiet. His already repeatedly repaired heart had taken a heavy hit. Some say words hurt more than anything. He was one of those people that agreed with that.

Michael snapped back to reality when Eliza put her hand on his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Michael hesitated before answering. He slid her hand off of him.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m fine…”

“Um… Mr. Mell?” asked Cassie after another awkward pause. “Is… Is that guy you friend?” Michael stared at the door. Memories played out in his head, all of them only make the emotional wound hurt even worse.

“What? Friends?” said Eliza when Michael didn’t provide his answer. “They’re rivals. Right, Michael?” Michael only gave his partner-in-law a half hearted shrug.

“For now we are… I guess.” He wasn’t expected Eliza’s reaction to be what it was.

“Huh!? Why do I get the feeling I’m missing something? C’mon, Michael! Tell me!” She nudged his arm. “What’s the deal with you and Prosecutor Heere?” Michael took a small step back. He was afraid of her reaction to the truth.

“Eliza? Remember that friend I told you about? The one I had in high school?” Eliza slowly nodded.

“Yeah. You mentioned it briefly before, but…” Eliza’s eyes went wide. So she realized it. “Wait… is he…? Are you…? Were you…?”

“Uh… yes?”

“WHAT?!”

“Eliza, my ears…!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it for Turnabout Samurai. This was fairly difficult for me to write, partially due to the fact that Turnabout Samurai isn't one of my favorite cases. But still, I pushed on and got it done and I am proud of the result.
> 
> The next chapter will be a leeway into Turnabout Goodbyes, then we can get started on one of my favorite cases across the games. And it will be fantastic.
> 
> Also, I can't not picture Jeremy in Edgeworth's cravat. He would look good in it. End of story on that note.


	13. Michael in the Bathroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael finally comes clean to Eliza about what happened between him and Jeremy eight years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, this chapter contains a lot of flashback, as well as semi-graphic anxiety attack and brief suicidal thoughts. You have been warned.

**December 24, 2016**

**7:09 PM**

**Los Angeles Streets**

 

The streets were freaking freezing. Even while wearing his coat, Michael could still feel the cold air penetrating his skin. He didn’t understand how Eliza wasn’t complaining. Then again, she was probably used to the cold from growing up in a colder climate. She was ahead of Michael by a few paces. He had his hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his coat. In a few hours time, it would be Christmas. And then, after being coaxed into the idea by Eliza, she and Michael were going to host a party at the law office. That’s what this outing basically was: a supply run.

“Okay. Let’s get cracking,” said Eliza. She withdrew a piece of paper from her pockets. “We’ve got our list, I’ve got Alexander and a friend of his bringing over the food, and I sent out all the invites via email a few days ago… all that’s left is the decorations.”

“So… like what?” Michael asked, eyebrow raised. All he got was Eliza holding up her piece of paper.

“It’s all on the list.” 

“Hmm…” Michael gazed over at the windows and their grand displays as he and Eliza passed them. Eliza looked back at Michael. She slowed down so that the two were walking side-by-side.

“Okay. What’s up with you?” she asked. “You’ve been like this since the Ferguson trial.” Michael couldn’t pull himself away from the scenery. He was lost in thought. This daze state had become a common occurrence over the last few months, ever since the end of October. It was part in reason as to why they were having this party in the first place. Eliza said it would probably make him feel better.

_ “Thanks to you, I’m saddled with unnecessary… feelings _ .”

_ What did he mean? He said unease and doubt but… I don’t know _ .

“Michael.” Eliza snapped her fingers in front of his face. Michael blinked as he re-entered reality. He hummed in response. “Answer my question. Why are you so spaced out?”

“Just thinking,” Michael answered with a shrug.

“About Prosecutor Heere?”

“What?” Michael’s tone took on a defensive stance. “No. No, what makes you think…” Great, Eliza was giving him a look now. She knew it. He really wish she didn’t. “Okay, yes. How’d you know?”

“Call it woman’s intuition,” she said. There was a brief pause. “Well, that and you had the same look on your face after my trial. You just stared at that backpack of yours a lot, looking lovesick.” Eliza’s face contorted into concentration as she and Michael entered the first stop on their little shopping trip. “Come to think of it…. you were blushing a lot when Heere teamed up with you during the Ferguson trial. I can’t think of a reason except you being frustrated, embarrassed or flustered. The other two don’t make any sense given the circumstances. But the third? I can’t think of a reason for that besides you… having a…” Her eyes widened. She came to a stop, slowly turning to face Michael. Oh no, he knew that look. “Oh my God.” Michael was quiet. He stared at the ground, feeling his face start to heat up.

“Michael, is there something I need to know?” Eliza asked. Michael looked back up at her.

“About the fact that I am not attracted to women in anything above friendship and familial love?”

“...In a way. So… you're—” Michael wandered off down an aisle. Eliza followed after him.

“Yes, Eliza. I am. Hope that’s not a problem.” Now it was Eliza’s turn to go red.

“No! No, not at all.” She jogged up so that they were walking next to each other again. “It’s just… I just find it kind of weird that you like  _ Heere _ , not men.”

“I said we used to be close. We were actually friends for like…” Michael had to think about the number for a second. “... I think it was twelve years before it crumbled to pieces.”

“Twelve years?!” Michael shushed her.

“Eliza, we’re in public.” He sighed. “But yeah. That’s what I just said.” He sighed again, pushing back any loose hairs that had fallen out of place. “After all this time, I still can’t figure out where everything went wrong.”

“Maybe I could help? Two brains are better than one.”

_ She’s got a point. _

“Fine,” Michael said with a sigh.

“Okay. Can you tell me what happened that lead up to… um… when everything ‘crumbled to pieces’?” Eliza asked as she took something off of a nearby shelf. Michael shrugged.

“I guess it started when Jeremy’s dad died.” Eliza staggered a bit.

“His father died?” Michael nodded. He could see her sympathy starting to bloom.

“Yeah, when he was sixteen. Now, Mr. Heere was a good guy. After he lost his wife, he kinda went… downhill. Anyway, I don’t know triggered it, but he started turning his life around. He was getting better. He was actually wearing pants.”

“Did he not normally wear pants?” Michael shook his head. Eliza cringed a little. Yeah, he was expecting that.

“Not unless guests were over, no. And before you ask, I did not count. I was like family at that point. Anyway, the whole mess started when Jeremy came to my house in the middle of the night…”

* * *

**September 30, 2008**

**11:32 PM**

**Mell Residence**

 

The banging on the door was loud and incessant. It had driven Michael from his sleep. Not that he truly was asleep, it had just come to claim him. As quick as it came, the quicker the banging started. Normally, his parents would have answered the door, but they were both out of town on separate business trips.

Michael lazily put on his glasses as he hurried down the steps. The banging was getting louder. By the time Michael got to the door, it had woken up at least half of the block. Michael wasn’t too pleased about it either.

_ Who that hell is trying to break down my door at this hour?! _

“Do you know what time it—” Michael blinked at who was standing at the door. Standing on his front doorstep was Jeremy, his head hung low.  His arms were wrapped tightly around himself, as if it was an act of solace. “Jeremy? It’s the middle of the night…” Jeremy didn’t say a word. Michael stepped aside. “Get inside.” Jeremy only gave his friend a nod. As soon as Jeremy was inside, Michael shut the door.

He followed his friend into the living room. Jeremy just sat down, not saying anything. Michael took a seat across from him. He looked at him, getting a glance at a pair of features he didn’t notice before.

Jeremy's eyes were bloodshot. The remains of tears stained his cheeks.

“Jeremy?” said Michael, trying to get his friend to look up at him. “What’s wrong?” Jeremy didn’t say a word. “Come on. I’m your best friend. You can tell me everything.” He still didn’t say anything. “Jeremy. What’s wr—”

“My dad…” Jeremy finally croaked out at last. His voice was far from hoarse. “Michael…” Jeremy looked up at him. There were tears forming in his eyes. “Michael, my dad’s dead.” Michael froze.

_ What? _

“Wh-What?!” Michael said after finding his voice. “What happened? Are you okay?!” Jeremy shook his head.

“H-He got into a car accident. They said that the brakes malfunctioned and—” Jeremy stopped there. The tears were falling. Jeremy had his hand over his mouth to keep his sobbing quiet. Michael waited for Jeremy to speak again. “He died at the hospital. He was just starting to get better, Michael. Why did this have to happen?!” Michael had trouble finding the right words to say. He sighed.

“Who knows?” It was all he could think of to say.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to bother you, but I didn’t know what else to do.” Michael got up. He walked over to his friend. He wrapped his arms around Jeremy, trying to offer a shoulder to lean on.

“You didn’t bother me. I was awake anyway.”

_ Barely, but whatever. _ Jeremy returned the embrace Michael had him pulled into.

“I’m all alone.” Michael shook his head. The grip he had on Jeremy grew tighter.

“You can stay with me, buddy. I’m sure that my parents won’t mind.” 

_ You’ll never be alone. Not while I’m here. _

Jeremy pushed Michael back, breaking their contact.

“I can’t. I have no choice,” said Jeremy, his mood taking a turn for the worse. Well, it was already worse. It was getting even more worse. “I’m going to go live with my uncle. He doesn’t live far away, so I’ll still be able to go to school but…” Jeremy bit down on his lower lip. Michael put his hands on his shoulders.

“I’m here for you Jeremy, okay? I’m your best friend. There’s no way I would leave you alone in a time like this.” Jeremy wrapped his arms around Michael this time, initiating another hug between the two. Michael sighed.

_ I’m never going to leave you when you need help. How can I? I love you. _

* * *

_ It wasn’t long after that night we started to drift. It was like Jeremy had suddenly cut me out of his life. I mean, we still exchanged a few words in class. But other than that, he completely ignored me. I started to think about what exactly could have happened. So, I did a little digging into Jeremy’s past. I wound up coming at a tragic event that I had heard little about. I didn’t even know that Jeremy was involved with it. It was the event that that sent the Heere family spiraling. The next time I saw Jeremy I made sure to tell him what I found out. _

* * *

**October 31, 2008**

**7:36 PM**

**Dillinger Residence**

**Downstairs Bathroom**

 

The bathroom was always a safe place. And it served as the prime place to accomplish both of Michael’s current goals: scaring the crap out of anyone who was unfortunate enough to walk in and to find Jeremy. The bathroom would be the one place he knew that he would have to eventually show up.

And Michael was right. A few hours later, after he had made camp, the door to the bathroom slammed open and shut. Michael peaked out from behind the shower curtain he had been using to conceal himself. Sitting on the  edge of the tub was Jeremy. Michael felt a smirk grow on his face. He reached out before grabbing Jeremy by the shoulder.

They may have been friends, but Jeremy was not exempt from Michael’s scaring rule.

Jeremy shrieked, jumping off of the tub’s edge as if it were on fire. Michael pulled back the shower curtain completely. He was grinning as he pulled himself up.

“What’s up?” were the first words out of his mouth. Jeremy stared at him in bewilderment.

“Michael?” he said as Michael stepped out of the tub. “I didn’t know you were invited to this party.” Michael chuckled nervously.

“I wasn’t. Which is why I’m wearing this.” Michael pulled at the t-shirt he was wearing. It was dark enough to hide him in a crowd. 

_ Well, that and I’ve been hiding in here the entire night. _ Jeremy just stared at Michael.

“So…” said Michael, continuing when Jeremy didn’t cut in with anything. “You’re speechless. You know, I’ve been thinking about this moment. What can I really say? I had this whole pissed off monologue about our epic journey through twelve years of friendship and…” Jeremy hugged Michael for a brief second. “What?”

“I’m just… It’s really good to see you.” Michael sighed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“It really won’t be once you’ve heard what I’ve learned about.” Jeremy’s smile faltered.

“About…?”

“Your mother… when she…” Michael drew a line across his throat to finish the sentence. Jeremy’s eyes widened. He shook his head.

“I thought we weren’t going to talk about that,” he said. “ _ Ever _ .” That harshness in his tone almost made Michael back down. 

_ I can’t give up now. _

“Jeremy, you need to hear this,” he said. Jeremy rolled his eyes.

“How did you even find something?” said Jeremy. “There’s no released records.”

“That’s why I scoured the papers, asked people involved. Finally, I found out something interesting… about your uncle.” Jeremy glanced up at Michael.

“What about him?”

“He was the one who found you, right?” Jeremy slowly nodded. “The police say it was like he knew where to look. That’s not the weird part. He took off a week after her death.”

“Yeah, because my mother was his sister. He was grieving. But even prosecutors have to get back to work. Why bring that u―”

“Those are the only days he's taken off in his entire career.” Jeremy turned away from Michael. “Isn't it even a little bit strange to you?!”

“... And here I thought you were my friend.” Michael stopped.

“I… what?” Jeremy turned back to face him. Michael didn’t like the look on his face.

“You’re jealous of me. My social standing, my friends… all of it.” Michael groaned. So that’s what he thought this was all about.

“Come on―”

“Have you ever considered that maybe I got lucky? That maybe with the my history, the universe owed me one?” He wasn’t getting it. He wasn’t listening.

“Jeremy, your uncle possibly had a hand in your mom’s death and you want to ignore it?”

“Shut up.” Michael felt himself tense up.

“What?”

“I said shut up!” Jeremy was yelling at him now. This wasn’t the Jeremy that Michael remembered. He never would have yelled at him before… not like this. “My uncle has done everything for me since my dad died. He took me in without hesitation, he’s made me cooler. He's improved my life drastically, and you want to accuse him of murder?!”

“Jeremy that’s not…” Michael sighed. This wasn’t how it was supposed to turn out. “It’s a possibility but…”

“I hate you.” Those words pierced Michael like a knife. He felt his breath get caught in his throat.

“Jeremy…” He could barely even speak.

“I hate you,” Jeremy repeated once again. “I hate you Michael Mell.” Michael felt his heart shatter into a thousand and one pieces. He stayed there, standing between Jeremy and the door. He was still. “Move it.”

“Or you'll what?”

“Get out of my way.” Jeremy roughly shoved Michael off to the side. “Loser.” The bathroom door slammed shut. Michael stood there for a moment.

_ No… no. He hates me. Jeremy hates me. My only friend and now…  _ Michael wanted to be alone.

And alone he was. He could hear the party raging outside from the door. Everybody was in such a state of bliss, they probably wouldn’t even notice him if he left. Michael sighed. He didn’t know what to do.

_ I could stay right here or disappear and nobody's even notice at all _ …

Jeremy had left him alone. He had broken his heart, spat on their friendship and kicked Michael like he was a lost puppy already down on its luck. Well, staying in here was better than anything.

_ I'd rather fake pee than stand awkwardly or pretend to check a text on my phone.  _ Michael sighed, checking his phone. There were several text from his parents. He ignored them, putting his phone away. _ Everything felt fine when I was half of a pair. And through no fault of mine, there's no other half there.  _

Michael felt like he had been sitting there for hours. A simple glance at his watch would reveal it had only been a few minutes. There was a creak of the door opening. Someone is trying to get in.

“No, you can’t come in!” Michael said quickly, pushing himself up against the door. It slammed back shut. A few seconds later, whoever had been trying to get in abandoned their effort. Michael sighed as he made the smart choice and locked the door. That had been too close for comfort. 

He slid down the door until he hit the floor. He began to pick at the grout in between the tiles. He would stay here until he calmed down… or at least until he could leave. He was sitting alone in the bathroom. It was just him and no one else.

Michael got up on his knees. He carefully unlocked the door, taking a peek outside at the party. He could see Jeremy chatting up with a group of his friends. He was laughing. He had forgotten about the exchange completely. Michael shut the door again, locking it with a click.

_ He's out there, just ignoring all our history. Memories get erased, and I'll get replaced with a newer cooler version of me. _

“I wanna dance with somebody!” sang drunken girl through the door. Michael stood up. A small smile crossed his face. He and Jeremy used to make fun of those kinds of girls. His smile quickly disappeared. There was no one to make fun of drunk girls with anymore.

He didn’t want to go out. He didn't want to face anyone. He sat down on the toilet. He choked back the tears rising in his throat. He shook his head. He was slipping into panic. Not now, not here! He would be fine. He had to be fine. If he did end up in tears, maybe he could just blame it on the weed someone was probably smoking or even something in his eye.

_ Yeah, who would buy that _ ?

No one knew who he was. No one cared who he was. He was sitting alone in the bathroom. It was just him and no one else.

_ Knock knock knock knock. _

Michael stood up. Someone was trying to get in again. If he kept this up, someone was going to start to shout soon. 

_ Knock knock knock knock.  _

“Oh, hell,” Michael muttered before calling out the person on the other side. “I’ll be out soon!” 

_ Knock knock knock knock. _

_ It sucks he left me here alone. _ .. 

_ Knock knock knock knock.  _

He was alone in a battle zone no one wanted to be apart of.

_ Clang clang clang clang.  _

Something was pushing on his chest, grabbing at it, clawing at it. Michael couldn’t breathe.

_ Bang bang bang bang.  _

He should have never shown up.

Michael tore off his glasses. He had to calm down. He  _ needed _ to calm down. He dashed to the sink. He turned it on, splashing the water in his face.

Michael stood over the sink, letting the water drip off his face as he turned off the faucet. He felt the pain go away. There was still the pressure, but the pain was gone. Michael put his glasses back on. He could pass for alright. 

He went to open up the door, but there was no one knocking anymore. Michael sighed. He walked back towards the sink, leaning up against it.

_ I can't help but yearn for a different time.  _ He looked at himself in the mirror. It could be any clearer. He couldn’t deny it anymore.

He was alone; his heart was broken and his best friend was gone forever. Michael couldn’t hold it back anymore. The floodgates opened. Panic settle in. Tears started to stream down his face. His mind started to cloud. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe.

There couldn't have been a sadder sight. This night was a mistake. Michael could feel the emotion boiling inside of him. Irrationality took over.

“I wish I stayed at home in bed, watching cable porn,” Michael said out loud, no longer thinking or caring if someone heard him, “Or I’d offed myself instead. I wish I was never born!” The tears were pouring down rapidly now. “I’m just Michael, who’s a loner, so he must be a stoner! Rides a PT cruiser,” Michael dug in his fingers into his hair. Jeremy had been right about him. He was right. “God, I’m such a loser!”

No one knew who he was. No one cared who he was. He was sitting alone in the bathroom. It was just him and no one else. Michael leaned back against the wall, sinking down to the floor.

Anxiety had won this battle and was rolling in the riches of the aftermath.

Michael wasn’t sure how long he was sitting in that bathroom for. He let the tears fall; he let the cries be heard. He didn’t care anymore. Everything was a mess.

It took awhile for him to calm down enough to look presentable. When Michael left the bathroom, no one paid any attention to him. That’s what he wanted. He wanted to be left alone. He just wanted to be left alone. Fate, however, usually never fell in Michael’s favor. Someone grabbed his shoulder when he was mere inches from the door.

“Hey, you okay?” Michael didn’t look back to see who it was.

_ Let me go. Don’t talk to me and let me go. _ The person didn’t let go.

“I was just about to walk home…” Michael’s voice was still hoarse from his attack a few minutes ago. It was in part on why he thought he could leave in the first place.

“It’s… Mell… right?” Michael slowly turned to see who had caught him in his grand escape. It was a boy around his age. He was fairly short and had a bright red streak in his dirty blonde hair. Michael nodded.

“... yes.”

“You okay, dude?” Michael looked down at the floor. He didn’t want to answer. “Mell?”

“Y…” he sighed. His face spoke a thousand words, and the word ‘yes’ wasn’t one of them. “... n… no…” He could feel the pressure start to build up again. The boy put an arm around Michael.

“C’mon, man,” he said. “I’ll take you home.”

“Thanks.” The pair left the party with Michael giving away his home address. It wasn’t until they were driving did the mystery boy say something.

“Name’s Rich, by the way,” he said, taking a left turn onto Michael’s street. “Rich Goranski. I’d have to say, it was pretty lucky that you got out of there when you did, Mell. I thought you were about to break down right then and there.”

_ Already kinda did. _

“Hey, Rich?” said Michael as Rich pulled up in front of his house. Rich hummed. “You can uh… just… call me Michael.”

* * *

_ Rich became my friend after that night. But… nothing really happened between me and Jeremy for the next few years. I called Jeremy for months after we fought. He didn’t pick up at all. He avoided me during school. After winter break that year… he didn’t come back to school. Rich told me that it was no big deal. I convinced myself to follow his advice. That is what lead me to be an attorney in the first place: because of something Rich said. _

* * *

**April 19, 2013**

**6:42 AM**

**Ivy University**

**Michael and Rich’s Dorm Room**

 

Michael hated the early morning. What he hated more was being woken up from four hours worth of sleep by banging on his door. He grabbed his glasses off of his dresser, drowsily making his way to the front door. The banging subsided when Michael told whoever it was that he was coming. Michael put on his glasses and opened the door to see Rich standing in front of him. There was something tucked under his arm.

“Er… hey, Rich. What’s—” Michael barely got to finish his greeting as Rich barged into his apartment without saying a word. “—up.” Michael sighed, shutting the door. He should have expected this by now after knowing Rich for five years. “Dude, Did you forget your keys again? It’s six o’clock in the morning, and I got an exam in a couple of hours and was up until two trying to sleep. You could have just texted me and I would have drove down and given them to you”

“You’re still…” Rich said, taking a look around the place. His eyes fell on the trash can overloaded by tissues. “... ya know?”

“Sick?” Rich nodded. “Yeah. It’s going to take more than a day for this to go away, you know.”

_ Freaking weather. I hate this sudden spring heat. I feel like shit. _

“Right…”

“Anyway,” said Michael, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What are you doing here? Did you forget your keys?” Rich blinked. Did he seriously forget why he had came to Michael’s apartment at the crack of dawn? he took in a breathe before starting his story.

“No. I got them. I knew banging on the door would wake you up.”

“And you woke me up because…?”

“Okay, so I was on my way to working this, you know, like I do,” said Rich. He was hurried about it. Something was wrong, Michael just could feel it. “I passed by the newsstand and―” Michael blinked.

“You read the paper?” Rich grabbed Michael by his t-shirt and shook him.

“You’re not listening!” Rich took out what he had brought with him. It was a newspaper. He held it out in front of Michael. “Here! Just read this!” Michael took the paper. He fixed his glasses. The headline stood out to him.

“‘ _ Demon Prosecutor Taking the Stands’ _ ?” he read aloud. He didn’t see what this had to do with him. “Why should I…” Michael looked at the picture below the headline. His eyes immediately widened. Any symptom of sleep was gone. The front page showed a picture of three people: one adult, somewhere in his late forties, a young blonde girl, and the one person Michael never expected to be associated with such a headline.

Jeremy Heere.

“What?!” Michael exclaimed. Rich nodded. So this was what was wrong. “I-I don’t understand. What happened?!”

“Jeremy became a prosecutor, apparently,” said Rich.

“I know that. It’s just…” Michael sighed, leaning up against a nearby chair. He unfolded the paper. “Just listen to this. ‘ _ Prosecutor Jeremy Heere, age 20, has been going on a winning streak since his first trial this year. The man has been described as a machine. Like his maternal uncle, fellow Prosecutor Eric “SQUIP” Williams, he is said to do anything to get a guilty verdict. Heere has been praised as a genius for his prosecution skills thus far. Despite this, Heere has been suspected of forging evidence and manipulating witnesses. _ ’” Michael shook his head. No, no this couldn’t be right. “What?!”

“Whoa,” said Rich. He was sitting down on the couch now. “Brutal.”

“This can’t be right. This is not the Jeremy I know.” Michael dropped the paper. He rushed into his bedroom, fumbling around for his phone. Once he got a grip on it, he walked back out to meet with Rich. “I’m going to call him.”

“You know his number?” Rich said, eyebrow raised. Michael nodded. He was already dialling.

“He has trouble remembering it, so Jeremy always makes sure that his phone has the same number as the last.”

“Clever.” Michael inputted the final number. He pressed the phone to his ear as it began ringing. It took less than a second to be picked up.

“ _ Hello? Prosecutor Heere speaking.” _ Jeremy had sounded so calm.

“Jeremy?” said Michael. “Hey, it’s―” There was a thump, followed by a click. Michael’s face fell.

“What is it?” Rich asked, seeing Michael’s disappointment.

“He hung up…” Michael hit redial. “I’m trying again.” There was a series of short rings. There was a beep.

“ _ Hey, it’s Jeremy Heere. I can’t come to the phone right now, so leave a message at the beep. _ ” Michael frowned. He had let it go to voicemail on purpose. He sighed. He wanted to speak with Jeremy. He had thought about it every now and then. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say.

“Hey, Jeremy. This is Michael,” Michael began. This was more awkward than confronting him face-to-face. “Remember, from high school? We were friends forever until uh…” Michael frowned. That wasn’t a pleasant memory and one he didn’t think would be brought up in this message. “...you know. Um… So…” He glanced down at the newspaper. “I’ve noticed that in the papers… well, what they’ve been saying about you. Demon Prosecutor and all that. I know it’s not true. All of it. Call me back when you get this message. I want to know what happened to you. Bye.” He hung up. Michael groaned, running a hand through his hair. He stared at his phone.

“You know he’s not going to call you back,” said Rich, “Right?” Michael sighed.

“Yeah…” He didn’t take his eyes off of the phone in his hand.

_ Jeremy… I haven't seen him in forever. He's always been avoiding me. Urgh. _

“So…” said Rich with a click of the tongue. Michael was uncomfortably quiet. “What are you going to do?” Michael dropped down onto the couch besides Rich.

“I don’t know,” he said, putting his face into his hands. “He’s been constantly avoiding me since high school.” He looked down at his phone again. “Apparently that’s going to continue being a thing.” Rich chuckled, making Michael look at him. Why was he laughing?

“Why don’t you become a defense attorney?” suggested Rich with a grin. “You can face him off in court and meet with him there. He can’t avoid you then.” Michael stared at him. He thought about Rich’s words.

_ Become a defense attorney, huh? _

“... Rich.” Michael put a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Uh… yeah?”

“That’s... “ Michael shot up from the couch. He ran over to a chair, grabbing a sweatshirt off of it. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do!” He pulled the sweatshirt on over his head, not caring that they knocked his glasses askew. Rich stood up as Michael hurriedly began searching for his shoes.

“Whoa, hey,” he said. Michael found his sneakers waiting for him by the door. He grabbed them, pulling them on. “Michael, I was joking.” Michael had already tied up his laces. After double checking that he had his student ID on him, Michael threw open the door and ran out. He was already halfway to the main door when Rich called out to him.

“Michael!” Rich shouted. Michael came to a stop, looking back at his friend. “Where are you going?!” Michael had a bright grin on his face.

“I’m going down to the admissions office,” he said, relaying his crazy idea to Rich. “I’m going to double major in law. From this point on, I’m going to become a defense attorney!” Michael ran to the door.

“Michael! Hey, Michael! Michael!” Michael couldn’t hear Rich anymore. He was already sprinting down to his destination.

_ Jeremy… I’m going to become a defense attorney. And I will meet you again… and I’ll save you! I’ll find out the truth and I’ll save you! I promise! _

* * *

**December 24, 2016**

**8:21 PM**

**Los Angeles Streets**

 

Eliza was quiet as Michael finished up his story. It had provided time for them to get their shopping done with for sure. They walked side by side down the street.

“And…” Michael said. There wasn’t much left to it. “That’s just about what happened. So, any questions?”

“Just the one,” said Eliza, shifting bags in her arms. “That is the actual reason you became an attorney? Just to talk to Prosecutor Heere again?” Eliza made him sound crazy with the way she worded it.

“Yup,” Michael said with a proud nod. Eliza gave him a look that read ‘are you serious?’. “Hey, the plan worked, didn’t it?”

“I guess. You  _ did _ meet during my trial back in September.”

“Bingo. And once again, I was right. About Jeremy, anyway.” Michael sighed, gazing upwards at the night sky. “When did end up meeting in the courtroom that day… and… that guy at the bench… it wasn’t the Jeremy I knew… though…”

“Though what?” Michael thought about the proceedings during the first half of that case, before he had gotten himself arrested. 

“He visited me in the defendant’s lobby during a recess.” Eliza stared at him. Oh right. He never told her about that. Actually, he never told anyone about that. “You were in the bathroom at the time, I thought it didn’t matter.” Eliza shrugged at him. “For a second, I thought that was my Jeremy. The same one who would play video games in a basement with me for hours and make fun of drunk girls.”

“Was it him?” Michael was quiet. “Prosecutor Heere’s not your Jeremy, though. Is he?”

“He has to be.” Michael hadn’t given up hope yet. He refused to. “I know that the real Jeremy Heere is in there somewhere.” Eliza’s gaze wandered over to the other side of the street.

“Michael.” She nudged his arm.

“I feel like I was on to something.”

“Michael.” Eliza nudged him again. He sighed.

“Anyway, that’s enough about that. It’s almost Christmas.”

_ I really shouldn’t be so pessimistic right now. _

“Michael,” said Eliza. She nudged his arm a third time. Michael ignored her touch, looking down at the multitude of bags they were carrying.

“Let’s get this stuff back to the office. We can go home and set up for the Christmas party tomorrow morning.” Eliza, sick of being ignored, grabbed Michael’s coat with the one one free hand she had. Both of them, although Michael unexpectedly, came to a halt. Michael looked back at Eliza. “What?”

“Over there.” She let go of him, gesturing across the street. Standing up against the brickwork of a building was a very familiar person. “Isn’t that Prosecutor Heere?” Michael stared at him. It was.

“... Eliza, hold these for a moment.”

“Michael, my hands are already—” Michael forced his bags upon her. “Hey!” Michael dashed across the street to the prosecutor, leaving Eliza behind him.

“Jeremy!” he called out. Sure enough, Eliza was right. Jeremy looked up at Michael, not saying a word. Michael finally reached the other side of the street, somewhat out of breath. “Hey.” This was growing increasingly awkward. “I didn’t expect you to be out this late.”

“Uh, well…” Jeremy said, his eyes sliding towards the ground.

_ He’s avoiding something _ .

“Family stuff. Out shopping with my cousin.” Michael nodded.

_ That’s it. She can be a bit… intense. _

“So…” Michael said, looking around them. He couldn’t spot that obvious blonde hair anywhere, which was somewhat of a relief to him. “Where is she?”

“In a store somewhere,” Jeremy answered halfheartedly. “I found my chance to leave and took it.”

_ Understandable _ .

“What do you want?” Jeremy asked. It came out somewhat harshly. “I can see Elizabeth on the other side of the street. It’s obvious you didn’t come over here to chat.”

“Yeah, well…” Michael felt his face grow red. He hoped that it was only from the cold air hitting his skin.

_ Crap. I didn’t think this through. Uh… Think of something Michael. Quick! _

“I uh… well…” He glanced back at Eliza, struggling to carry the bags in her arms. That was it. He turned back to Jeremy. “Eliza and I are having a little get-together to celebrate Christmas tomorrow. I was wondering if you wanted to come.” 

“Michael, I don’t celebrate Christmas. You know that.”

_ Right. Jeremy’s Jewish. He really isn’t big on Christmas. But…  _

“Either way,” said Michael shoving his hands into his pockets. “I know how you get around the holidays. Especially Christmas.” Jeremy gave Michael a confused glance.

“You…” he said. “You still remember?”

“What makes you think that I forgot?” Michael replied with a small laugh. He couldn’t forget it. No he had to think of something else to say. “So… um…” He glanced over at Eliza on the other side of the street. Something else came to mind that would continue the conversation. “Hey, Eliza and I are going to be setting up for the party at the office in the morning. If you want to stop by—”

“I’ll… think about it.” Michael blinked at Jeremy’s sudden cut-in.

_ Did… Did he just accept my invite? _

“R-Really?” Michael said. He wasn’t sure that he had heard Jeremy right. “You’re being serious?”

”Y…” Jeremy brought up his shoulders, trying to make himself look smaller.  “Yeah.” He shoved his hands further into his coat. He avoided Michael’s gaze. “I might not be able to make it. I have something to do later, and I really don't know how long it will last but…” Jeremy looked up at Michael. “I’ll try.” Michael couldn’t stop th smile growing on his face.

“Well uh…” He was grinning like an idiot. “Great!”

_ I really didn’t expect him to accept. Okay… now what? _

“Michael!” Michael had never been happier to hear Eliza yell at him.

_ Thank you, Eliza. This was getting really awkward _ .

“Hey uh…” said Michael. “I gotta go…. Talk to you later?

“Y-Yeah. Talk to you.” Michael was still grinning as he ran back across the street. Eliza dumped the bags he had been carrying back into his arms once he was close enough. He really should have expected that reaction after he had done the same to her. The pair began walking down the street once more.

“What was that about?” Eliza asked once she had cooled down from being briefly ditched.

“I invited him to our party tomorrow,” Michael replied, shifting the bags in his hand.

“What did he say…?” So she was just as curious as he had been about his answer.

“He said yes.” Eliza stared at him with semi-wide eyes. “It’s not a hundred percent guarantee but…”

_ It’s the thought that counts _ .

“Wait, he actually said yes?” She followed Michael to his car in a nearby parking structure. Michael shrugged.

“Something along those lines.”

* * *

 

**December 24, 2016**

**11:52 PM**

**Michael Mell’s Apartment**

 

_ I see more in you than the rest of them do, and I'm not gonna let you fall. I'll swallow my pride, time after time ‘cause you're worth it all! _

Michael slammed his hand down on the wood of his bed stand in an attempt to grab at his cell phone. It was the middle of the forsaken night. He had to be up early the next day, He had just fallen asleep no less than half an hour ago, too. Needless to say, Michael was not in a good mood.

_ It’s probably Eliza, freaking out about the party tomorrow. She hasn’t stopped worrying about it since we said we were going to celebrate at the office. Still, I was sure that she would… wait…   _ Michael froze, letting the chorus of the song hit his ears.

_ Whenever I think of you… How I wish you only knew… That you might be my dream come true, but what do I have to do to make you notice me? _

That wasn’t Eliza’s ringtone. Michael finally grabbed a hold of his phone, taking a look at the screen. He never expected the number to contact him again. Hope was the only reason he kept it in his phone in the first place. Michael picked up the call.

“Jeremy?” he said, not entirely awake yet.

“ _ Hey _ …” said the voice on the other end of the line. It was definitely Jeremy.

“How do you still have my number?” Michael said with a yawn. He thought after everything, Jeremy would have at least deleted it.

“ _ I don’t. You always keep it the same _ .” Michael let a small laugh escape as he rubbed at his eyes.

“So do you.”

“ _ Touché _ .” Michael sat up. He took a glance over at the clock that was on his bedside. Glowing green letters read out the time for him. it was almost midnight.

“Hey, anyway, it’s pretty late.” Michael flopped back down into bed. “I thought you would be asleep by now.”

“ _ Yeah… well… _ ” Michael raised an eyebrow, propping himself up on his elbow.

_ He sounds unsure… _

“ _ I just wanted to call to say _ …” Jeremy heaved out a sigh. “ _ I’ll be there _ .” Michael stared off into space. “ _ At the party tomorrow. I’ll… I’ll be there _ .”

“Oh!” Michael had nearly forgotten about their conversation, having lost it in the fog of his brain that was still clearing out. He grinned. “Uh… Great!”

_ I didn't think he would actually come! _

“ _ You… said that you needed help setting up, right? _ ” Jeremy asked. Michael could hear the rush of wind from his end. He sat up once again.

“Not really,” he said without thinking. He caught himself before Jeremy could retaliate. “But!” he said quickly, “But. An extra hand never really hurts.”

“ _ I… uh… great! _ ” There was a brief pause between the two.

“So…” said Michael after about a minute. “Why don't you swing by the office at what? 10:00? Eliza or I should be able to meet you at the front door.”

“ _ That… That sounds good. I'll see you then. _ ”

“Talk to you later.” There was a beep as Jeremy hung up. Michael laid still for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. He put his phone back on the bedside table before turning over to get back to sleep. The smile hadn't left his face.

_ I can't believe he's going to be there… this is the Jeremy I know. Maybe I'm getting closer to bringing him back. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, boyf riends is a thing in this au if it is not obvious already. I have my reasons, I just don't know how to convey them right.
> 
> Bonus points if anyone recognizes Michael's ringtone for Jeremy.
> 
> ANYWAY. That's out of the way now. I will be posting the Turnabout Goodbyes arc once I've finished writing it out. I'm excited. It is of my favorite case in the first game. Ooo! This is gonna be good!
> 
> Also, I never said it in the last chapter so, here's the musical list for the Turnabout Samurai arc:  
>  \- A Chorus Line  
>  \- Chicago  
>  \- Heathers (we will see more characters from this later down the line)  
>  \- Into The Woods


	14. Turnabout Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems that universe's gift this year was the worse - a murder. And to make this even worse, the suspect is the one person Michael never thought he would see behind bars. ... This is not how Michael wanted Christmas to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And after a two month hitaus, I am back. I apologize for my absence. I was busy with life, which I then had to recuperate from. But now I'm back with my favorite case in the first game, Turnabout Goodbyes.
> 
> Oh yeah. And uh... you all ready to be introduced to a new character? I know its pretty late to do that, but... I'm welcoming in one of our main characters for the rest of the series in this chapter. I think you'll like her. Enjoy!

**December 25, 2016**

**10:08 AM**

**Mell & Co. Law Offices**

 

Michael’s eyes were trained on the front door of Mell & Co. like a bloodhound’s nose on a scent. He had just finished pushing all the furniture out of the way for the Christmas celebration that would be taking place later that night. It was impressive that he did it without paying attention. Ever since the clock hit 10:00, he had been patiently waiting for that rhythmic knock.

“You've been staring at the door for the past couple of minutes,” said Eliza, trying to teach the top of the windows to hang up streamers on.

“I know,” Michael replied flatly.

“It's only been ten minutes.”

“Eight.” Eliza rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. Are you sure he’s even coming?” Michael gave her a solid nod.

“Jeremy doesn't lie.” He could feel the condescending look Eliza was giving him. “Okay. Maybe he does, but still. He sounded sincere over the phone.”

“Well, he's not just going to magically appear if you keep staring at the door.” She reached up, almost falling over in the process. The top of the window was hard to reach. “Michael, can you come help me with this?” Michael took his eyes off of the door long enough to see Eliza's struggle. He walked over to her, not dropping the subject at hand.

“Yeah, says the one who can  _ magically _ summon people from the dead,” Michael said. He picked up Eliza by her waist, giving her enough of a boost to secure the streamers in place.

“Magic and spirit channeling are two totally different things!” said Eliza once she was back on the ground. It was Michael’s turn to roll his eyes.

_ Whatever you say, Eliza. But I bet the committee is with me on this one. _

“That reminds me…” Eliza continued as she put away the streamer roll. “Hey, Michael? Do you know if there are any good waterfalls around here?” Michael’s eyes didn't settle on the door again. He had gone to rummaging around in the shopping bags from the day before.

“Waterfalls?” Michael repeated, briefly glancing over at Eliza. “Why?”

"Isn't it obvious? I need a waterfall to stand under. Preferably a freezing one.” Michael stared at her as he pulled out a long string of lights.

“... I'm gonna guess this is part of your spirit medium training.”

“Of course it is.” Michael rolled his eyes again as he continued to pull out the lights. How long was this thing? “I've been slacking off lately. So, I need to brave the elements. Including water. I plan on heading out tomorrow to find one.”

“Um… okay?” He had made a promise to himself long ago not to question anything Eliza did that involved the words ‘spirit’ and ‘medium’ and ‘channeling’. “I don't know if there are any waterfalls around here but Red Bank Lake is close by.”

“Dammit.”

“Sorry, but that’s the breaks.” Michael groaned as he finally pulled out the entirety of the lights from their box. They had come out tangled. “Couldn't you take a cold shower or something? That's the same, right?” Eliza shrugged. “Try it. There's a shower upstairs.” It was Eliza who stared.

“... why?”

“Angelica told me that she lived in the office for a while when she was just starting out. Like I said, it should be upstairs.” There was a pause.

“That's… not actually a bad idea. Give me a second!” Eliza raced past Michael and towards the staircase. Michael sighed, sitting down on the couch in the middle of the office, lights in hand. It was a moment later that he could hear the running of water coming from the floor above.

_ So much for the rushing spring waters…   _ Michael took the remote for the TV, flipping it on. Something had to give him a sense of sanity as he fought against the wires. The news channel began to show their latest news report.

“ _ Next in the news... A large, unidentified animal was sighted at Red Bank Lake! _ ” Michael glanced up at the screen for a moment before fiddling among the wires again. Sounded too normal to be true. “ _ The town is buzzing with excitement! Locals are calling it ‘Reddy’ in a tip of the hat to Nessie, the Loch Ness monster. Though its namesake, Nessie, proved to be a hoax, locals are confident their Reddy is the real deal. _ ” Michael yawned. This was more boring than he expected.

The water stopped running. It was a short moment later that Eliza returned, drying off her hair with a towel. There were obvious water stains on her shoulders.

“The water pressure is kinda low…” she complained. She went for another box of decorations, letting the towel fall around her neck.

“You want more pressure, huh?” Michael asked with a snicker. Eliza nodded. “You could always go down to the fire station and ask them to spray you with the hose.” Barely even a second had passed before a roll of streamers narrowly missed Michael’s head.

“Not. Funny.” Well, Michael thought it was funny. Before he could retaliate, however, the news channel had started up another report, cutting into the one they were just showing.

“ _ We interrupt this program to bring you a special news bulletin! _ ” said the news anchor. “ _ Strange occurrences continue at Red Bank Lake… But this time, it's murder! _ ” Michael groaned.

_ Red Bank Lake again? Where’s that remote?  _ He put down the lights. He literally just had that remote a moment ago. Where the hell was it?  _ It’s Christmas. I really don’t want to be thinking about murders right now…  _

“ _ The body of a man was found in the lake early this morning. A suspect has just been apprehended a few minutes ago. Sources inside the police department revealed… _ ” Michael had finally found the remote and was prepared to shut off the program, “ _ that the suspect's name is Jeremy Heere, age 24. _ ” Michael felt his blood run cold. He dropped the remote as his eyes widened. They did not just say what he thought they said.

“What?!” exclaimed Eliza. She rushed over to Michael’s side. Their eyes were glued on the screen.

“ _ Heere was an up-and-coming prosecuting attorney, known for his skill and connections. He was guaranteed a long and rewarding career… has he thrown it all away? _ ” Michael was fixated. He didn’t want to believe what he was hearing. He couldn’t.

_ J-Jeremy!? What's going on!? Jeremy would never do something like—  _ Michael shook his head. He picked up the remote again.

“Son of a bitch…” Michael muttered as he shut the TV off. He had ditched the lights permanently, leaving them behind on the couch as he got up.

“What?!” shouted Eliza, almost as shocked as Michael was. “When? Where? Whom? Why? How? H-How did this happen?!” Michael was searching through his office for something in a rush.

“I don’t know!” he replied. “Eliza, where’s my coat?!”

“On your desk.” Michael rushed over to his desk, seizing his coat from off of it. He knocked off several things, but at this point, he didn’t give a damn. “What are you doing?!”

“Just…” Michael fumbled with his coat as he pulled it on, “cancel the party.”

“But Michael—” Michael whipped around to face Eliza.

“No buts!” He had already made up his mind. “I'm going to the detention center  _ now _ .” He raced towards the door, calling out one last thing to Eliza. “Grab your jacket.” He raced out the door. Eliza groaned, picking up her jacket as she had been told.

“Michael, wait up!”

* * *

**December 25, 2016**

**10:27 AM**

**Detention Center**

**Visitor's Room**

 

Michael ignored the security guards as they tried to get him to calm and slow down. He rushed past them into the visitor’s room. He could hear Eliza furiously apologizing as he took a seat and waited. The silence was deafening.

“You know, Michael…” said Eliza after she finally found him. “We've been here in one time or another, haven't we?” Michael gave her a small shrug.

“Comes with the territory. And getting arrested.”

“I don't think you should mention the latter to anyone.” Michael knew that was true. However, he was pretty sure the whole population of L.A. witnessed the proceedings of the Schuyler case.

The door on the other side of the visitor’s room creaked open. Out stepped Jeremy Heere, flanked by a pair of security guards. His head was hung low. The prosecutor was halfway to where Michael and Eliza were when he looked up. He stared at them for a brief second before turning around and walking in the opposite direction. Michael shot up, leaning up against the table edge in front of him.

“Jeremy, wait!” he called out. Jeremy came to a quiet stop. “Come back, please?” There was a faint groan. Finally, Jeremy turned back around. He sat opposite to Michael and Eliza. As Michael eased himself back down, he could see the somber expression on his rival’s face. There were bags under his bloodshot eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Michael couldn't tell if Jeremy was just tired, or really unhappy to see them considering the harshness in his tone. Or maybe it was both.

“Michael, I don't think he's in a good mood…” Eliza whispered into Michael’s ear.

“He's been arrested, Eliza,” Michael whispered back to her. “Were you in a good mood when you were here?” Eliza shook her head.

“Why are you here?” said Jeremy, snapping like a growling dog. “Oh, I get it. You've come to laugh at the fallen attorney. Go ahead then. Laugh!” There was a stale silence. “Why aren't you laughing?”

“Jeremy,” said Michael, leaning up against the table. “Why would we come here to laugh at you?”

“Shouldn't you be getting ready for that party of yours?” Eliza and Michael exchanged a glance.

“It um…” Michael hesitated. “Well, stuff happened. Had to cancel.”

_ By “stuff" I mean “you getting arrested”... But I'm not going to say that out loud.  _ Jeremy sighed, running his hands down his face. He sunk into his chair.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t find out about this,” he said. “I knew you would come down here and…” Jeremy lowered his gaze. “I didn't want you to see me… not like this.”

_ Hey, I didn't want to see you like this either, believe me. _

“I just want to know if you're okay,” said Michael. Jeremy gave him a look.

“I've been arrested for murder, Mell. I barely even slept last night…” He sighed. “But other than those factors… yes.” Michael felt a small weight lifted off of his shoulders.

“Jeremy.” Jeremy tried to shrink himself. “What happened? How did you end up like this?” He was silent. “Please. Just tell me.”

“Why should I?” The cruel tone had returned. “You can't do anything about this.”

“Bullshit.” Eliza said, slamming her hands on the table. She had taken the words right out of Michael’s mouth. “We're going to help you. That's what we're going to do.” There was a small shock on Jeremy’s face — maybe a spark of hope in his eyes. It was snuffed out as quickly as it came.

“You can't help me.” Michael blinked.

“What?”

“You're just a… a novice!” stated Jeremy. “You've only been in three trials! Yes, you might have gotten lucky and won all three, but your luck’s bound to run out someday, Mell! You need real experience!” Michael sighed. This was going to be more difficult than he thought.

“Okay…” he said. “The murder took place at Red Bank Lake, right?” Jeremy gave him a look before slowly nodding.

“Yes…”he said. “Late last night.”

“That lake is a long trip from the prosecutor’s offices, the courts, and the shopping district. Why were you down there?” Jeremy stared down at the floor. The previous night’s events popped into Michael’s head. “Is that what you told me you needed to do? Is that where you called me from last night?" Jeremy didn't look up.

“... I can't tell you…” That left a heavy feeling in Michael’s stomach.

“Prosecutor Heere…” said Eliza, mouth agape. “You… You didn't… did you?” Jeremy sighed.

“Reddy…” 

“Huh?” Jeremy looked up to Eliza, obviously ticked off by her assumption.

“I went to see Reddy.” Eliza was confused beyond belief; that much was visible. 

_ That was obviously a lie. Why is Jeremy avoiding the truth?  _ Michael felt like there was only one thing left to do. It was what he came here to do in the first place. He moved aside his coat. Pinned to the lapel of his jacket was his attorney’s badge. Lucky for him, he wore it everywhere. 

“I want you to look at this,” said Michael, pointing to his badge. Jeremy raised an eyebrow.

“Why are you showing me your attorney’s badge…?” Michael looked at Jeremy, not breaking eye contact with him

“Jeremy Heere.” He was firm in his tone. He didn't crack. Michael knew what he wanted to do. He knew what he  _ had _ to do. “Let me defend you.”

There was silence. Then, to Michael’s utter surprise, Jeremy burst out laughing.

“You want to defend me?” Jeremy laughed. “Really? That was a good one…” He sighed, letting the laughter fade. “Unfortunately for you, I'm not that desperate… yet.”

“What the heck do you mean by that?” asked Eliza. She was acting as if it had been her pride that was just wounded. “Michael’s a great lawyer! He beat you in court twice, didn't he?” Jeremy glared at her.

“Tell me, Miss Schuyler. Why would I trust a lawyer with only three trials under his belt?” Eliza bit down on her lip. Jeremy’s attention fell back on Michael. “My case is hopeless, Mell. Every single attorney I've talked to has turned me down.”

“What?” Michael breathed out. Jeremy sighed.

“To put it simply, they were afraid that they would lose. Although… that might be my fault. I did get every one of their clients declared ‘guilty’... now it looks like that's where I'm headed.” He shook his head, burying his fingers into his hair. “Mell, I don't want you involved in this. Especially you. I…” He shook his head again,  groaning. “I-I can't ask you to do this.” Michael’s mouth went dry. There was one last thing he had to know. 

“Jeremy…” he said, the words even hard to say. “Just tell me one thing.” Jeremy glanced up at him. “You… You didn't do it… you're not a murderer, right?”

“Think what you will…” Jeremy said with a sigh. “From you, I only have one request.” Jeremy’s expression turned to ice. His eyes were as cold as stone. “Stay out of this case.”

“What?!” exclaimed Eliza. Michael didn't speak a word. He didn't want to. His chest was starting to tighten. “Michael is just trying to help you!”

“I know!” said Jeremy. Eliza had gotten pretty loud. He was trying to keep her quiet. “I-I know that! But I can't. I just can't!”

“Why not?!” Jeremy glanced towards Michael before looking back at Eliza.

“... Look. Just…” the prosecutor sighed. “Please. Just go away. Leave me alone!” And with that, Jeremy left the visitor’s room. Michael felt a chill creep up as he let out a deep breath. That could have gone a lot better.

Michael got out of his seat. Slowly, he walked towards the door, hands shoved deep into his pockets to hide their shaking.

“Michael?” Michael stopped when he hear Eliza's gentle tone. “Prosecutor Heere… he didn't do it… did he?”

“Eliza…” Michael said, his voice just as low as hers. Only the reason for it was different. “Let's just go.”

“But, Michael…”

“Eliza.” It was hard to talk. “Please…”

They walked to the parking lot and to Michael’s car in complete silence.

* * *

**December 25, 2016**

**10:43 AM**

**Red Bank Lake**

**Park Entrance**

 

It was only by the time Michael had completely calmed down that he realized where they were. He and Eliza were standing at the entrance to Red Bank Lake.

“So… this is where it happened?” Eliza asked.

“Yeah,” Michael said with a nod. They entered the park. There was a surprisingly lack of police tape in the area. “Red Bank Lake is right in the center of the place.”

“Okay… so if this is the murder scene… there aren’t a lot of police in the area.” Michael had to agree with her on that. However, he could spot a familiar tattered coat not far from that.

“Isn’t that Detective Tiggular?” he asked, pointing towards the coat. Eliza followed his finger and nodded.

“Pretty sure. Let’s go talk to him!” Before Michael could say anything, Eliza had already taken him by the wrist and was leading him over there like a service dog. It wasn’t until they got closer did Michael realize that Detective Tiggular was locked in a heated argument with someone.

“There’s enough of us here!” yelled Tiggular to the woman he was talk to. “How has no one found anything yet?!”

“I don’t know!” replied the woman, almost as loud as the detective. “We’re doing the best we can!” Michael looked at her. There was a wave of familiarity. The more he stared, the closer he got to realizing who exactly Tiggular was talking to.

_ Wait a minute. _

“The trial’s tomorrow! We need clues! Now!”

“Sir, there aren’t any clues! What’s why you arrested who you did! So far, the evidence points to him being the killer!”

“I know!” Tiggular groaned loudly. Michael and Eliza came up from behind them. Seeing her face clearly, Michael recognized the woman.

_ I know her. _

“Detective Tiggular’s kind of scary today, isn’t he?” Eliza asked. Michael gave her no reply. “Huh? Michael?” Michael strode forward, pulling his coat’s sleeve out of Eliza’s hold.

“Detective!” he called out. Tiggular jumped and gave a little shout at the sudden call. He whipped around. He sighed when he saw it was only Michael.

“Michael Mell,” said the detective, regaining his composure and a normal volume. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Michael?” said the woman. She stepped out from behind Detective Tiggular. The height difference between the men and her was astounding. “ _ You're _ Michael Mell? That defense attorney, right? You took on the Ferguson trial.” Michael nodded.

“Er… yeah.” The woman held out a hand.

“Nice to meet you! I’m one of the detectives on the case. My name is—”

“Christine Canigula.” The woman stared at him as if she had just caught him following her home. She lowered her hand. “I um… we went to the same high school. Two River. We were even in the same class.” Christine blinked.

“O-Oh!” she stammered. “Sorry. I didn’t recognize you. You were… um…” Michael didn’t blame her for not knowing.

“Not really important in the high school hierarchy,” Michael finished for her. “Anyway—”

“What are you doing here, Mell?” interrupted Tiggular, his hands on his hips and rolling his eyes.

“Huh? Um… well…”

_ I actually don’t know what I’m doing here. I kinda blacked out on the drive over. _

“Because if you are, I’m here to help!” Michael stared at him as if he grew another head. “Ask me anything. Bring it on!” Detective Tiggular seemed far more enthusiastic than usual. Eliza strode up to Michael’s side.

“We kind of can’t investigate,” she told the detective. “Um… how do I put this…? Um… Prosecutor Heere won’t let Michael defend him.” And Michael’s mood sunk a little further into the abyss.

“Y-You don’t say…” Tiggular sounded far from worried. Michael really didn’t blame him. He looked around. From where they were standing, Michael could see the lake’s waters.

“So, Detective,” Michael asked, looking towards Tiggular. “What happened here?”

“You don’t know…?” said Christine after exchanging a look with Tiggular. Michael shook his head.

_ Not really. As soon as I heard Jeremy got arrested, I turned off the news report and bolted to the detention center…  _

“Wow. Okay, Mr. head-in-the-fluffy-pink-clouds Lawyer.” Michael raised an eyebrow.

“Head-in-the… what?” Tiggular sighed heavily.

“Nevermind,” he said with wave of his hand. “Okay, so the whole thing happened last night about… fifteen minutes after midnight. There was a boat out on the lake with these two guys in it. One of them shot the other and… well…”

“And that shooter was Prosecutor Heere?” Eliza guessed.

“According to the detective who arrested him…” said Christine, giving the man beside her an accusatory glance. Given that bit of interaction, it wasn’t hard to piece together who had been the unlucky sap to take Jeremy into custody.

“For the record,” Tiggular told Christine, “I did not want to do that. I do not believe that he killed anybody. Stop giving me that look.”

_ And apparently they only reported it this morning. Huh… wonder why there was nothing on social media about it… wait, it's Christmas what am I talking about? _

“How did you get here so fast?” Eliza asked the detective pair. Michael blinked, drawn right out of his thoughts.

“Well…” Christine said with a sigh. “There was a witness here who had called it in as soon as he heard the gunshots. When the report came in,  _ he _ ,” she pointed over to Tiggular, “raced over to the lake.”

“A… A witness?” Michael repeated. Christine gave him a firm nod. “Who might that be?” Before Christine could answer that question, Detective Tiggular put a hand over her mouth.

“That would be confidential to all those but the prosecution,” he said as Christine pushed his hand away. “He saw everything, so I’m sure that you’ll find out in court tomorrow.”

_ Did he not get the memo when Eliza said that Jeremy won’t let me defend him or did he ignore all of that? _

“And before you ask, we know it was just him,” Christine added, keeping Detective Tiggular’s hand from trying to keep her quiet again. “It was pretty cold out here last night, and it was Christmas Eve, so not that many people were even out here. Still, we’re trying to be as thorough as possible. You never know when and where another witness could turn up!” She sighed, finally able to get a hold on Tiggular’s wrist and pushed his hand away. His efforts to silence her ceased there. “But… at this point we’ve come up completely empty.”

“You don’t think that Prosecutor Heere is a murderer, do you?” Eliza asked what Michael couldn’t. He didn’t even want to entertain the thought.

“Absolutely not!” protested Christine. “It’s impossible! Witness or no witness. I don’t believe a single word of it!”

“Calm down, rookie,” said Tiggular, putting a hand on Christine’s shoulder.

“I have to agree with Detective Canigula on this,” said Eliza. “Who care what the witness has to say about it?”

_ I care! Detective Tiggular probably cares! I know Jeremy definitely cares… _

“... You really believe he’s telling the truth, don’t you?” Eliza continued, asking another question after a long, solemn silence.

“Of course I do,” Christine said with a sigh. “He’s my friend, after all.” Michael stared at Christine with a raised eyebrow.

_ Friend? But I thought… huh… _

“It doesn’t matter if we believe him or not,” Tiggular said. He was just as upset as Christine was with the situation. “The rest of the force are positive that he’s the killer. No one’s even taking this investigation seriously.” He groaned. “And after all the help Prosecutor Heere has been to us! It’s hard to imagine that no one’s taking his side.” Michael stared at the dirt below his feet. From their earlier visit, it seemed like Jeremy didn’t want anyone to take his side.

“Well, at least you guys are,” said Eliza, trying to put a positive spin on the situation. “Um… but I have to ask. When we visited him, Prosecutor Heere said that no one would take his case. Is that true?” Christine and Tiggular exchanged looks with each other. Christine sighed.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” she said. “He’s built up a big enough reputation to be considered a legal celebrity. If you defend him and lost… well… your reputation would most likely more than suffer. To make matters worse, the case against him… let’s just say that it’s solid and leave it at that.”

_ I suppose it would be if they have a witness. _

“Mell!” Michael snapped forth to attention when Tiggular shouted his name. “You’re a defense attorney, aren’t you?” Michael slowly nodded.

_ That’s what this badge on my jacket means. I don’t wear it to make a fashion statement. _

“Well, don’t go turning your back like the rest of your kind!” There was a heavy silence for a moment. “You know what I mean,” continued Tiggular. “Defense attorneys. Remember the Iron Maiden? Prosecutor Heere helped you get your client declared innocent!” Michael bit down on his lip. He couldn't deny that fact. Without Jeremy’s help, Cassie might have been rotting away in prison right now.

“You’re going to take his case… right?” Christine asked. Both she and Detective Tiggular had pleading eyes, almost like a puppy stuck out in the rain. It would hurt them to tell them the truth. Michael sighed.

“I told you; I tried,” he said, finally opening up to what had occurred at the detention center. “He doesn’t want us to represent him, and I quote, ‘especially us’. He said that he can’t let me do this… whatever that means.” The eyes of the detectives widened.

“What?!” exclaimed Tiggular. “That doesn’t make a lick of sense! You’re an amazing defense attorney, and he knows it! Why, you should have heard him talking about you after the Iron Maiden case.”

_ I doubt that it was anything good considering what he said to me after the trial… _

“Why wouldn’t he want your help?” Tiggular continued with a sigh. “I don’t get it.”

“Detective Tiggular, sir!” All heads turned as a police officer jogged up to the senior detective.

“Please tell me that you found something…” The officer shook his head.

“Um… no… sir…” He cleared his throat. “There was a call for you from the precinct. They want to hold an investigation briefing with you… sir…” Tiggular groaned, pushing back his hair in exasperation.

“Fine.” He turned back to face Eliza, Michael and Christine. “Sorry, guys. I gotta go. Anything you want to ask before I head back?” Michael blinked.

“Are you not coming back, Detective?” he asked.

“Probably not,” Tiggular said with a shrug. “Though… if you do need to talk to me…” From his coat, the detective pulled out a scrap of paper and a pen. He scribbled something down and handed it off to Michael. “If you need me, you know where to find me.” Michael looked down at the scrap as Tiggular began to walk away. They were directions to the local precinct. A thought popped into Michael’s head.

“Wait! Detective!” Michael ran to catch up with him. Tiggular stared at him as he jogged up. “Um… I want to take a look around the park. That would be fine, right?”

“Yeah. No problem.” Michael felt nothing but relief at that statement. “Canigula! Go with them! Help them out! Keep them in line!”

“You got it!” Christine called back to her superior, giving him a small mock salute. Eliza and Christine joined Michael’s side as Detective Tiggular finally left. “Now let’s get to investigating!

_ If I didn’t know better, I’d think Christine was far too excited about this. _

* * *

**December 25, 2016**

**10:58 AM**

**Red Bank Lake**

**Public Beach**

 

The small trio walked along the water, a short distance away from the edge. Michael did have to admit one thing. Having a detective sort  of as your personal escort made investigating a whole lot easier.

“Wow,” said Eliza as she gazed out to the waters. “So this is Red Bank Lake?”

“Yup,” Michael said with a short nod. “Not sure that it warrants a ‘wow’ though.”

“Hmm… probably not.” Eliza took her eyes off of the lake and looked ahead. “Is that a snack stand in the middle of December?” Eliza was right. Nearby the beach was an abandoned stand. The warmth from inside could tell them that it was still in use.

“Samurai Dogs?” Christine said, reading aloud the sign nailed to the top of the booth. Michael looked up at the sign. All he could do was shrug. It wasn’t really a good business pitch. The kids were more into the Iron Maiden spin off that had been announced last week when _The_ _Steel Samurai_ ended.

“This place is a mess…” Eliza groaned, looking into the stand. That was something all three could agree on. Trash had littered the floor. There was something in the corner that Michael didn’t want to know about. “I mean… take look at this.” Eliza bent down, picking up one of the least dirtiest things from off of the floor. “Why the name of my Magatama would a party popper be in here?” Michael could only give her a shrug. Eliza stared down at the popper in her hands. “... I’m taking this. It could be useful.”

“Eliza, there is a detective right here!” said Michael, gesturing wildly to Christine. The rookie detective shrugged. 

“It’s fine by me,” she said. “The place looks abandoned anyway.”

_ Such a diligent detective you are, Christine. But still… this coming from the guy who stole things from crime scenes… I really shouldn’t be saying anything, should I? _

* * *

**December 25, 2016**

**11:09 AM**

**Red Bank Lake**

**Woods**

 

The three continued on forth. Upon coming to the woods, Michael felt like they had walked around half of the lake at that point. They had to have, as the trio came across a campsite that could not have been seen from their starting point.

“I’ll tell you something,” said Christine as she took a look around the site. “They’ve got guts if they’re camping out at the scene of a murder.”

“Hey, if they were camping here last night,” said Eliza, jumping on a train of thought that neither Christine or Michael had considered, “they might know something about the murder.”

_ That's true… _

“What’s this?” Michael followed over to where Christine had positioned herself. Standing by the water’s edge was a camera set up on a tripod. A large microphone was attached to it.

“It might be noise-activated,” Christine continued. “Like, you set it to a certain noise and it only responds to sounds with that frequency.” Michael got a mischievous grin on his face.

“Then let’s give it a try,” he said. Neither woman could stop him from stepping up to the camera. Michael clapped his hands in front of it. There was no reaction. Maybe it was voice activated.

“Hey,” Michael said into the microphone. Once again, there was no reaction. Maybe he needed to be louder. “HEY!” There was still no photo taken. Michael tried to go even louder. “HEEEEY!!”

“Would you stop that?” said Eliza. Michael frowned. The camera would not respond to him, no matter how hard he tried.

“Maybe it isn’t set to respond to voices or hands clapping?” suggested Christine. That’s when Michael got an idea.

“Eliza,” Michael said, holding his hand out to her. “Let me see that party popper for a sec.” Eliza raised an eyebrow, but gave him the party popper anyway. Michael held the object in front of the microphone.

He pulled the string. The bang made by the party popper could be heard throughout the entire park. The camera went off in fast succession, firing off several dozen photos at once.

“Yup. It responded.”

“HEY! GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF THAT!” Michael yelped at the sudden shout. He almost backed into the camera. He hid the remains of the party popper behind his back as an angry looking woman approached him. She pushed Michael aside in favor of examining her camera. She growled.

“Look at what you did!” she said. At least it was at a lower volume this time. “There goes a whole roll of film!”

“I uh… S-Sorry.” Michael shoved the party popper remains into his back pocket.

“Sorry isn’t going to pay for this. Do you know how much a roll of film costs? What the heck were you doing out here in the first place?!”

“Uh… well….”

“What? Don't try to play stupid with me just 'cause you think I'm some dumb bimbo! Yeah, I know how you all think! Well let me tell you, just because I might be dumb doesn't mean we all are!”

“Michael…” said Eliza. She was definitely mad at him over this. The woman turned to her.

“And who are you supposed to be?” she asked, looking Eliza up and down. “The kid your babysitting?”

“What? I'm not that much younger than him!”

_ Technically, we’re the same age. Though you are a few months younger than me... _

“Wait a tic…” Christine said as she stepped out from behind Eliza. Michael had forgotten she was even there for a moment. “Jenna? Jenna Rolan?” The woman blinked and stared at Christine.

“Wait, Christine? Is that you? Hey!” Her anger dropped like a pin to the floor. The two women exchanged a brief hug between one another.

“I take it you two know each other?” Michael asked as they seperated. Christine nodded.

“Yeah,” she told him. “After all, she did kinda go to high school with us. She was in the drama club with me and Jeremy.”

“Michael,” Eliza whispered in his direction. “How many people are we going to run into that you went to high school with?”

“I don’t know!” Michael whispered back to her. “I wasn’t the most social person!” Michael began to fiddle with the badge pinned to his jacket.

_ And you already know why. We had a long, two hour conversation about it back in September… Wait a minute. My badge. I wonder what would happen if… _ Michael let go of the pin, pulling aside his coat to show it to Jenna.

“Jenna, I want you to take a look at this.” Jenna looked at the badge.

“Aren’t badges supposed to be all shiny and impressive?” she asked. Michael felt that statement wound his pride. He took very good care of his attorney’s badge. “Are you a cop or something?”

“No. I’m the lawyer. Christine’s the cop.”

“Detective,” Christine interjected as Michael covered up his badge again.

“Yeah. What she said.” There was a small pause before Jenna’s eyes went wide.

“You’re not gonna try and sue me because of the film, are you?” Michael shook his head at her statement.

“No. No, no. I can assure you. No.”  _ I wouldn’t win that case anyway. _

Christine quickly explained the situation to Jenna, from the murder the night before, to Jeremy’s arrest and to their current investigation whilst leaving out a bit of the detail. 

“Why didn’t you say that you were investigating a murder in the first place?” said Jenna once Christine’s story was done. “Go ahead. You can ask me anything.” Michael sighed, a small smile on his face.

_ Finally! Some cooperation! _

“Um… Jenna,” said Christine, drawing her old friend’s attention to her. “What exactly are you doing out here anyway? It's the dead of December.”

“I’m taking some pictures of a meteor shower for a project I’m doing.” Jenna gestured over to her camera. “You didn’t think all this fancy equipment was for show, did you? Heck no. I got up here about three days ago to see if I can catch it.”

_ So… she was taking pictures of falling stars...? Wait, did she say  _ it _? … I'm hoping she’s talking about the showers. Yup. That's it. _

“So… when was this murder anyway?” Jenna asked. “You didn’t tell me when.”

“It was last night,” Michael answered. How did Christine leave that part out of her story? “Around… what was it? Midnight on Christmas Eve, I think. Right?” Christine gave him a nod. “Right.”

“Christmas… Eve?” 

“Yeah. A man was shot on a boat.” A thought came to mind. “You didn’t happen to see anything, did you?”

“A boat you said?” Michael nodded. “Well… I think I saw one. I’m not entirely sure. It’s kind of heard to remember with how long I’ve been out here. Heck, even my camera can’t catch ‘em all.”

“Speaking of which…” said Eliza, giving the camera a side-glance. “That is quite the interesting camera… but… why is there a large microphone stuck to it?”

“Oh. The mic triggers that stutter whenever it detects certain sounds,” Jenna explained. “Right now I programmed it ot only responded to loud noises… like… like gunshots.”

“Called it,” Christine muttered, a victorious smirk on her lips.

_ Wait… did Jenna say that her camera can react to gunshots? _

“Jenna.” Michael strode forward. “Did you just say gunshot?” She nodded. This only began to solidify Michael’s forming theory. “The victim in our murder case… he was shot with a pistol. If your camera heard that…” Jenna’s eyes lit up. She seemed to understand what Michael was asking of her.

“I see what you want. I’ll have a look at my film.” Michael grinned, standing up on his toes in excitement. “I checked them once. Don't remember if there was anything on 'em though. But what if I got something! I could be witness to a genuine murder! I'll go check that film. You come back soon!” Jenna sped inside of a van not too far from the campsite without another word. Eliza wrote down Michael’s cell phone number, tacking it up on the van’s side for when Jenna was finished with her work.

Their investigation here was finished.

* * *

**December 25, 2016**

**11:54 AM**

**Police Department**

**Criminal Affairs**

 

With nowhere else to go, Christine, Michael and Eliza took a small drive down to the precinct. Michael had never been inside the building itself, apart from the detention center. However, he didn’t expect it to be as busy as it was, especially when the date was put into consideration.

“Hey!” Michael whipped around as Detective Tiggular closed in on the three. At least it was a familiar face. “Thanks for coming down here. We just finished up the meeting, so there couldn’t have been a better time.”

“And how did that go?” Michael asked. The look on Tiggular’s face told plenty.

_ I get the feeling we're in for some bad news… _

“Um… anything about the victim?” Michael asked, clearing his throat. It was better to change the subject. Toggle shook his head.

“Nope. Still can’t ID him. And Mr. Heere has been no help.”

“Jeremy still hasn't said anything?” said a worried Christine. Tiggular sighed.

“Not a signal word. He’s being stubborn… more so than usual.”

“What about the meeting? How did that go?” Michael bit the inside of his cheek. That was the one subject he wanted to avoid hearing about. Lucky for him, he didn’t have to. Tiggular refused to say a word with Michael present.

“You know,” Tiggular said, sighing once more. “I really don’t know what to believe about the case at this point. I mean… sure. Mr. Heere’s just as human as you or me. But… I get the feeling that if he did something wrong, he wouldn't go hiding it. That's just the kind of guy he is. Why can't anyone else see that?”

“So, they think that it was Prosecutor Heere?” asked Eliza sadly. 

“Well they scheduled the trial for tomorrow, so yeah.” Tiggular reached forward, putting a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “Do me a favor, Mell. Stand by Mr. Heere.” Michael felt a lump form in his throat. “He needs help. You’re the only one who can do it.” Michael brushed his hand off.

_ Trust me. I want to help. He just won't let me. _

“Detective Tiggular,” said Eliza. “I have a question. Why is it you and Detective Canigula trust Prosecutor Heere so much?”

“Well,” said Tiggular, crossing his arms over his coat. “I have a strong working relationship. We trust each other, so I think that’s how it works.”

“A… working relationship?” Detective Tiggular nodded.

“Mr. Heere always gets the defendants declared guilty. Well… until you came along.” He looked over to Michael. A dissatisfied look crossed his face. It wasn't like Tiggular was wrong. “Okay, yeah. I’ll admit it. His methods were a little bit… extreme. But there’s a reason for it! At least I think there is…” He shook his head. “Anyway, Mr. Heere trusts our investigations. He trusts us to get the right man on the first try. Which is why I work so hard. We’ve gotta earn that trust. You can trust Mr. Heere. You have my word.”

_ Trust? Can I really trust him… or am I not the one he trusts anymore? Dammit. When did things get so complicated?! _

“What about you Detective Canigula?” Eliza said, turning to the woman next to her.

“That’s because I know Jeremy Heere. Like Michael does. The real Jeremy Heere. Jeremy and I… we…” Christine stared down at the ground.

_ Ah, I know this one. If I’m right…  _

“That’s because you and Jeremy are a couple,” Michael finished for her. Christine stared at him, as did Eliza.

“Huh?”

“Were,” said Christine simply. “We  _ were _ dating at one point. That was about four years ago. He’s still my friend but… when Jeremy started prosecuting he… he changed.”

_ So I’m not the only one who noticed that. _

“We got into a fight, and I ended it. I didn’t see him until I became a detective back in October.”

_ October… so the Ferguson case…? Wonder why I didn’t see her then… wait… I'm starting to think that Christine was the one who saved my ass and arrested Velma Kelly. Note to self. Ask about that later. _

“Um…” said Michael when he saw the look on Christine’s face. “Sorry for bringing up bad memories.” Christine shrugged, putting on a forced smile.

“The past is the past,” she said “Anyway, sir.” She turned her superior officer. “Did you ever get the autopsy report? I’m sure that Michael would like to take a look at it.” She nudged Michael’s arm.

_ Depends if I get the case or not… but… I am a bit curious. A little peek never hurt, right? _

“Yeah. Made a copy for you.” Tiggular dipped into one of the files on a nearby desk. He held it out for Christine to take. She did, opening the file. Michael and Eliza leaned over to get a look at the report.

Um… Detective Canigula?” asked Eliza, staring at the file. “Can I… see the photo of the victim for a second?” Christine glanced over.

“Huh? Oh. Alright.” Christine unclipped the photo from the top of file and gave it to Eliza. The spirit medium stared at it for a second. Her eye went wide, an audible gasp escaping her lips.

“Is it someone you know?” Michael asked her.

“I…” Eliza shut her eyes, shaking her head. “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling but… I feel like I met him somewhere before.” 

“Well, you guys are free to continue on with your investigation,” said Christine. She shut the file. “I’m going to stay here and get the evidence ready for the trial tomorrow.” Michael blinked.

“You’re the lead detective for this case?” he asked. Christine nodded proudly.

“Yep! My first case that I get to lead. It is both a good thing and a bad thing considering who our prime suspect is.”

_ Agreed. _

“Well, either way,” said Michael. “Congrats.” There was a small ding from his pocket. Michael dug into his jacket, pulling out his phone. A text displayed itself to him. He nudged Eliza’s arm. “Hey, that was Jenna. She says the pictures are ready if we want to see them.” Michael put his phone back into his pocket. Well, one thing seemed to be going right today.

“I’ll call you guys if anything comes up!” Christine called to them as they left the station.

“Thanks, Christine!”

* * *

**December 25, 2016**

**12:33 AM**

**Red Bank Lake Woods**

 

“What the fuck?” Michael and Eliza stared at the picture in front of them. It was plain what they could see. Jenna didn’t lie when she texted Michael, telling the lawyer that she had a picture of the moment of the murder:  _ My camera took two pictures last night! You gotta come down and take a look! I might be onto something here! SOMETHING BIG! _

“See?” said Jenna, holding the photo closer to their faces. “He’s shooting him with the pistol!” She wasn’t wrong. There were definitely two silhouettes in the picture. They were on a boat. And one had a gun pointed at the other.

“It kind of does look like that…” said a disappointed Michael. This evidence was damning.

“But you can’t really tell who is shooting who…” Eliza added. Michael had to agree on that. That might have been the only contradiction with the photo he could see. 

“Yeah, well…” Jenna said as she retracted the photo, “There was enough fog out there last night to blind even my van’s headlights. But, y'know… Seeing these photos reminded me of something.” Michael and Eliza exchanged an unnerving look.

“What?”

“I saw the murder! I’m a witness!”

“WHAT?!”

“A-Are you serious?!” Michael exclaimed. Their one good thing was turning more and more rotten by the minute. Jenna gave him a confident nod. She shoved the photo into Michael’s hands before she raced over to her van. “I’m off to tell the cops, you can keep that. Later!”

“Wait!” Michael said once he came to his senses. “Jenna!” By that point it was far too late. Jenna was gone. Michael groaned. He might have just sealed Jeremy’s fate.

“What do we do now, Michael?” said a dejected Eliza. Michael sighed.

“We did what we can do. We go home.”

_ If she saw something, there's not much we can do about it. The question is: what exactly did she see…? _

* * *

**December 25, 2016**

**12:41 AM**

**Red Bank Lake**

**Public Beach**

 

Michael and Eliza trudged back around the lake. This was hopeless. Jeremy was going to get the death penalty over a crime he didn't commit. 

_ Come on, Michael. Stay positive! There has to be something. There's  _ always  _ something. _

“Hey!” Michael glanced over his shoulder. Marching up to him and Eliza was a random guy in a Santa suit.

“Michael, I think St. Nick is mad at you.”

“Just keep moving Eliza, and maybe he'll go away.”  _ I really don't want to deal with this right now… _

“Whoa, hey Michael!” said ‘Santa’. “I-It’s just me!” The Santa soon shed his disguise to reveal the wearer underneath: Rich. Michael thought Santa looked a bit shorter than usual.

“Rich, what are you doing here?” Michael asked his friend. Rich shrugged.

“Just working my day job.”  _ On Christmas? _ “I sell these Samurai Dogs! Want one? My ex-girlfriend, Kiyance gave me the idea.”

_ K-Kiyance...? _

“Oh, Kiyance was a fine, fine woman, Michael. It was her idea that I wear this costume! She was all ‘You go girlfriend!’ Y'know? She even bought this costume for me!”

“That’s…” Michael sighed. “That's really great, Rich.” Rich looked past Michael to Eliza. She gave him a little wave. 

“Michael, who is she?” asked Rich. It dawned on Michael that this was the first time Rich was meeting Eliza. “She’s not your…?”

“Rich.”

“Right. Stupid question.”

“I'm his investigative partner.” Eliza stepped forward, holding out her hand. “I'm Elizabeth Schuyler.”

“Schuyler? Hey, Michael. Wasn't that the name of your boss?” 

“Yeah,” Michael said with a nod. “This is her sister.” Rich gave Eliza a puzzled stare. 

_ Believe me. I had the same reaction.  _

“So uh… what are you guys doing out here anyway? Shouldn't you be getting ready for the party later? I was planning on swinging by after work.”

_ Wait, what? I thought Eliza… In hindsight, I might have put us in too much of a rush to get to the detention center for her to officially cancel it… or tell anyone about it. _

“Party’s cancelled,” said Eliza. This got a drop-jaw reaction out of Rich. “Something happened so… Michael cancelled it.”

_ Don't throw me under the bus! Even if it is true. _

“Man…” Rich groaned. “What the heck happened? I was really looking forward to that…”

“There was a murder last night. Right here on the lake.” That shut Rich up almost immediately. “The trial’s tomorrow.”

“And you took the case. Michael Mell, always a good Samaritan!”

“Well… actually… Jeremy won't let me represent him so…” Rich’s face went blank.

“Jeremy? Michael, did I hear you right?” he asked. “The defendant is...?”

“Jeremy Heere. Yeah.” Rich’s eyes went wide.

“Um, Michael?” asked Eliza, “Why would Rich know Prosecutor Heere...?” Rich grabbed Michael by the shoulders, shaking him.

“You don't mean  _ the _ Jeremy Heere?!  _ Our  _ Jeremy Heere?!  _ That _ Jeremy Heere?!” Michael’s glasses were knocked askew by the time he pushed Rich off of him.

_ How many Jeremy Heeres do you know?! _

“That’s him,” Michael said as he fixed his glasses back into their normal position. “He’s the murder suspect.” Rich looked to be in as big a state of disbelief as Michael had been earlier.

“Do you know Prosecutor Heere, Rich?” Eliza asked him. Rich proudly nodded.

“Of course I do,” he replied. “Jeremy was in the same class as us in high school!”

“What?! Michael, how many classmates are you hiding from me?”

“This is the last one, I swear!” Michael claimed, holding up his hands in defense. Eliza sighed.

“So… Rich. Prosecutor Heere was your friend?” Rich hesitated before nodding again.

“Kinda. I used to be this huge jerk. Forget what knocked some sense into me,” Rich explained. “Anyway, as soon as my personality turned around, Jeremy stopped talking to me. Actually… now that I think about it… that was around the same time I became friends with you, Michael. That's a coincidence, ain't it?”

_ Gee, I wonder why _ .

“Anyway, yeah. I knew him,” Rich continued. “He always wanted to be like his mom. Isn't that right, Michael?” Michael gave him a nod of confirmation.

“Like his mom?” Eliza repeated.

“That's right. Jeremy’s mom was a famous defense lawyer back in the day.”

“Wow. I never… wait, did you say  _ defense  _ lawyer?”

“Yeah.”

“But… Jeremy Heere is a  _ prosecuting _ attorney!”

“I know, and I still can’t believe it,” Rich said, pushing back his hair. “He always talked about ‘defending the weak’ who couldn’t ‘defend themselves’, and that it was ‘a man’s duty to society’ and all that jazz. He would go on about how defense attorneys were so ‘cool and confident’.” Rich sighed. “I don’t know what changed his mind. Any ideas, Michael?” Michael kept silent, only shaking his head to give an answer.

_ To be honest, I want to know that too… _ He bit down on his lip, staring at the dirt. Eliza had sensed this tension.

“Umm… umm… t-tell me about the dogs!” she said rather suddenly.

“Huh? Oh, you mean the Samurai Dogs?”

“Y… Yes.” Eliza nodded. “Yes. Those. Um… Wh-Why are they called that?”

“Well… originally they were Red Dogs! The Samurai thing was Kiyance's idea. She was all ‘change the name and you go girlfriend!’ She made me that banner! Man, the kids can't get enough of those Samurai Dogs!” Rich chuckled. “And I’ve been getting a ton of customers here with the big news.”

“Big news?” Eliza repeated, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah. Reddy! Hold on a sec.” Rich ducked over his counter. A moment later, he came up with a torn page from a newspaper. “Check this out.” He handed the page off to Eliza. “And there’s a photo, too!” Michael leaned over Eliza’s shoulder to get a look at the article. He didn’t trust the photo. It looked like one of those Loch Ness pictures that were photoshopped. Then again, it was the picture of a couple. Why would they photoshop that into it?

“A real monster in Los Angeles?” Eliza grinned as she read over the article. “I think I know someone who might like this. What do you think, Michael?”

“Um… it looks like a monster, I’ll give you that,” he said with a small shrug.

_ It's probably just a log or something... right?  _ Michael’s eyes scanned over the article.

“Hey... there's a quote here from the person who took the photo.” he said before reading aloud. “ _ I set the camera to automatic, and when we got into the frame… I heard a loud 'bang'! Like an explosion… followed by the sound of something slipping into the water… _ ” Only one thing about that stood out to Michael.

_ Why would there be a sound like an explosion…? _

“Um… Rich?” he asked his friend. “Can I borrow this?” Rich shrugged.

“Sure.” He held out his hand. “You can borrow it for one million dollars.”

“A million?!” exclaimed Eliza. Michael gave Rich a narrowed-eyed glare.

“I'm just kidding. Go ahead. It's yours.” Michael rolled his eyes as Eliza gave him the article. He tucked it away in the pocket of his coat.

_ Grow up, Rich. If I had that kind of money, I would have paid you back for law school by now. _

Eliza and Michael bid goodbye to Rich after that short exchange. It wasn’t until they made it out of the park and to Michael’s car did Michael notice something wrong with Eliza.

“Is something wrong?” he asked her, sliding his seat belt over his chest. Eliza shrugged.

“It’s nothing… just…” Eliza said with a groan. “Something’s been bothering me. About the autopsy report… The victim…” Eliza dug into her pocket. She pulled out the photo Christine had lent her from the report. She fixated herself upon it as Michael started up his car.

_ Wait, did you take that? Christine really didn’t ask for it back… so… oh my God, Eliza. _

“Hey!” Eliza exclaimed, making Michael slam on his gas a little too hard. The car returned to a normal speed as Eliza continued. “I remember now. This guy… I’ve seen him before!”

“You’ve what?!” Michael glanced over at her. This would have been helpful information back at the precinct.

“Yeah. He was a lawyer at the office Angelica worked at before! Alexander’s office! I met him once when I went there to… um… hang out…”

_ I don’t want to know who with or what you mean by that. It’s not my business. _

“So… Mr. Hamilton’s office?” asked Michael as he pulled out of the park’s property. Eliza nodded.

“Right.  That's what I mean when I say Alexander’s. Angelica used to work with him before she started up her own law firm.”

_ That was the last name I expected to come up… Maybe I should go talk to him… for old time's sake. _

* * *

 

**December 25, 2016**

**1:16 PM**

**Hamilton Law Offices**

 

Eliza was positively giddy when Michael told her that they were going to visit her fiancé. Michael wondered if he ever got the same way about having to see someone like that to him. Unlike when he had visited before, the secretary let Eliza and Michael in with no problem. All he did was look at Eliza and he let them in. Michael suspected being the boss’s fiancée got you places.

“Alexander!” Eliza said as she entered Hamilton’s office. Sure enough, the man himself was standing at his desk, trying to sort things out. He was dressed more casually than Michael remembered. Hamilton looked up when Eliza called out his name.

“Ah, Eliza!” He greeted his fiancée with a peck on the cheek. “I thought you would be at Mell & Co. right about now.” Eliza laughed sheepishly.

“Yeah about that…” she said. “The party’s kind of been cancelled.” Hamilton sighed.

“Well, I know several people that are going to be disappointed. What happened? You were so excited about this. … what? Is something the matter?”

“Mr. Hamilton,” Michael said, stepping forward and finally making his presence known. “There was…” Hamilton held up his hand to cut Michael off.

“Please. Just call me Alexander,” he asked of Michael. “You call my fiancée Eliza, and you saved her life. Just… call me Alexander.”

“Okay…” Michael wasn’t going to get used to doing that anytime soon. “A-Anyway, there was a murder last night.”

“A murder?”

“You haven’t heard?”

“I, er, just got up, you see. I had a bit of trouble getting to bed last night.” Michael didn’t want to blame him. He had the same problem while struggling through law school.

“Well, Jeremy Heere supposedly shot someone with a pistol out on Red Bank Lake.” There was a name Hamilton seemed to recognize.

“Heere?! The prosecutor?!” he exclaimed. Michael nodded. “What?! Who?!” Michael found it a bit humorous that both Hamilton and Eliza had the same reaction to finding out Jeremy had been arrested.

_ I guess he hadn't heard anything… _

“Yeah. The victim is still unknown though. That’s one of the many,  _ many _ problems. Eliza said that you could probably help us ID him.”

“The police gave us this photo.” Eliza handed Hamilton the picture she had borrowed from Christine when she didn’t realize Eliza still had it on her. Hamilton’s eyes went wide, a gasp escaping from his throat.

“So you do know him?” Michael asked, slightly thrilled about this.

“Yes.” Hamilton gave the photo back to Eliza. “He was a lawyer here! His name is Hammond. Robert Hammond. Are you saying that this is the man Jeremy Heere shot?”

“Supposedly,” Michael said, slightly irritated at the fact that everyone kept saying Jeremy was the shooter. “Just who is this Hammond guy, anyway?”

“Mr. Hammond was the defense attorney for…  _ that _ case…” Hamilton’s eyes drifted to the floor. Michael raised an eyebrow.

“That case?” he repeated. Hamilton nodded.

“Yes. The DL-6 Incident.” Michael felt himself choke on his own breath.

“DL-6…?”

_ Why does that seem to come up everywhere recently? First September, now here. _

“Perhaps you remember?” Hamilton said, taking his eyes off of the carpet. Michael nodded.

“Of course I do.” He couldn't forget it even if he tried.

“I don't,” said Eliza, taking a small step forward. “Fill me in?”

“It was this murder that took place fifteen years ago,” Hamilton explained to her. “The police were at such a loss that they used a spirit medium to contact the victim. Of course, you know who that is.” Eliza glanced down at the comma-shaped charm that hung around her neck. Her fingers lightly traced over its smooth surface.

“You don’t mean…” She looked up to Hamilton. “That medium was my father?”

“Yes, my dear,” Hamilton said with a short nod. “Your father, Philip Schuyler, contacted the spirit of the victim. Even with that testimony, if it can be counted as such, no conviction was made. It was a very strange case to say the least.”

“And they never caught the criminal, either,” Michael added on. After all these years, the case had remained unsolved.

“Even though Philip Schuyler used his powers to talk to the spirit of the late victim, the man who was charged was declared innocent by Hammond.”

“And then the police blamed my father…” Eliza said, her nails of her free hand digging into her sleeve. The hold she had on her charm grew tighter. “They called him a fraud. It drove Angelica to find out who sold them out. You helped her, right?” Eliza focused in on her fiancé. “That’s how we met. She introduced me to you.”

“Yes.” Michael kept quiet, letting the refreshed information flow in and out of his brain before settling down.

_ DL-6… It’s like a curse to a lawyer at this point. Like saying Macbeth in the theatre. _

“But I still don’t understand one thing,” said Eliza. She released her charm, keeping both arms firmly over her chest. “What does this have anything to do with Prosecutor Heere?” Michael stared at Eliza. Did she not know?

“Eliza, it has everything to do with Prosecutor Heere!” said Hamilton, crossing out from behind his desk. “The victim in the DL-6 Incident was his mother, Hannah Heere!”

“Wh-What?! His mother?!” There it was. Hamilton sighed, opening one of his desk drawers.

“If you want to know more, than you have to ask him yourself.” He fished out an old file. Opening it, he removed a photo and gave it to Eliza. “Show him this, and I’m sure that he’ll talk to you.” Eliza stared at the picture. Shock painted her face.

“Alexander, this is a photo of my father!” Hamilton nodded. 

“Go. Show it to him.” Eliza fixated on Michael.

“Michael, he’ll listen to you. Please. We have to do this.” Michael bit down harshly on his lip. He had finally had enough of this.

“I’m sorry but…” Michael said, slowly taking a few steps back towards the door. “I… I can’t.”

“What?!” both Eliza and Hamilton exclaimed in unison. Michael left the office without another word. He marched off down the hall. It was barely even a minute before he heard footsteps rushing after him.

“Michael!” Eliza called out as she ran after her investigative partner. “Michael, wait!” Michael finally came to a stop, allowing Eliza to catch up to him. He was already at the lobby door. “What do you mean that you can’t?!”

“You heard what he said, Eliza,” Michael told her, glancing over his shoulder. Her worried expression did nothing to put Michael at ease. “ _ Stay out of this case,  _ he told me. He didn’t even look back when we left. I don’t even know why I did any of this today! It was pointless!”

“Because you know, deep down, that you still want to defend him.” Michael dug his nails into the palms of his hands. His heart was screaming to say yes. Yes, he did still want to defend Jeremy. Yes, he still wanted to protect him. Yes, he still wanted to save him. His brain told him to keep quiet about that. It told him that it would be better this way. Conceal, don't feel.

“No!” Michael exclaimed. “He won’t let me! God…” Michael pushed back any loose hair that fell into his face. “Eliza, I told you that story. If you ask Jeremy Heere, he'll agree with me. Jeremy and I aren’t friends anymore. No matter how hard I try, no matter what I do… Hell, he doesn't even want to face me in court anymore. I don’t think I’m going to get him b—”

“Do you love him?”

Michael froze. He slowly turned on his heel, looking at Eliza. Her concern had melted away into determination. Michael blinked.

“... what?”

“Do. You. Love him?”

“Eliza, we talked about this,” Michael said with a sigh. “I—” Eliza put her hands on her hips.

“Look, he can be a little shit sometimes. We both know that.” She wasn’t wrong. “But that’s no excuse to sit back and watch while he turns himself into a murderer!” Michael made a move for the outside world behind him.

“Yeah…  I’m gonna—” He went for the door. Quick as a flash, Eliza was standing between him and the only exit. He groaned. Michael really just wanted this day to be done with.

“Michael, just listen to me!” she said, grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket. “He needs you. No one else will help him. You heard him! Prosecutor Heere said that no one will take his case. I know that you know all of the rules—”

“But I'm not what he wants.” He pushed Eliza aside, grabbing the door handle.

“But you're the one that he needs.” Michael froze. His heart was beating louder than all sense of logic could keep quiet. He let go of the handle, taking a step back away from the door.

“I know this is hard,” Eliza continued. She gently put her hand on Michael’s shoulder. “You just have to suck it up. Michael… look at me.” She turned Michael to face her. “When you love somebody, you take a stance just for them; even if the fight turns bloody. Just keep pushing through until the pain is gone. Jeremy Heere isn't going to listen to anyone… but that can't stop you from trying, Michael. When you love somebody, you see it through until the end. When you love somebody, all conclusion is gone. You need to reach out to him.” Eliza dropped her hands to her sides. “Somebody has to watch his back.” An old promise echoed in Michael’s head.

_ You know, you got a brother gonna have your back. If you stay on track and I remain on course, and if you give ‘em a smack, you gotta use your force! And if you leave a brother behind it's lame, because it's an effed-up world but it's a two player game! _

Michael tensed up. He knew the truth. He knew what he had to do. His heart was speaking loudly over all sense of logic. Michael came to a decision.

He walked out the door. Eliza followed after him.

“Eliza…” he said to her as they made their way to the parking lot. Michael smirked. “We're making a little pitstop.”

“Huh?” Michael looked over at her. She smiled in relief. The expression on Michael’s face made it clear; her words had gotten through to him.

“We're going to the detention center.”

* * *

 

**December 25, 2016**

**1:33 PM**

**Detention Center**

**Visitor’s Room**

 

Jeremy almost turned right back around when he saw Michael and Eliza had returned. Like earlier, it didn't take much convincing to get him to actually sit down and talk to them.

“I was hoping you got my message the first time,” said Jeremy. Every word of his was bitter to hear.

“You still upset?” Michael asked, leaning up against the table. Jeremy groaned, resting his head in his hands.

“This is the worst day ever.”

“Because you got arrested for murder?” Jeremy looked up at Michael.

“No, it's a little humid outside, you know? A bit warm for December…” Sarcasm was not Jeremy’s best skill. He stood up, slamming his hands down on the table. Eliza flinched. “Yes because I got arrested for murder!” He groaned loudly, sitting back down. “I'm up the creek without a paddle, and I'm utterly screwed!” Well, now was a better time to get down to business than any.

“Jeremy, have you found an attorney yet?” Jeremy had a split second of surprise before regaining his normal composure.

“It…” He looked away. “It's no concern of yours.”

_ And that would be Jeremy for “no”. _

“Can I ask you again about the murder?” Michael said. Jeremy rolled his eyes, sinking down in his chair.

“And I'll ask you again,” he said. “Please leave me alone.” Out of the corner of his eye, Michael could see Eliza’s fingers on the charm she wore.

“I'm not going to leave you alone,” he said, determined and defiant. “Not when you need help.” Jeremy groaned, sitting up once more.

“Please just… try to understand. I'm not doing this to prove I'm right or because I look down on you. I just… I don't want you anywhere near this case. Understand?” His tone had worn down to a gentler one. He had his reason for keeping Michael away from this case. Michael just had no idea what it was. Still, there was one question still lingering on his mind.

“Jeremy, why did you even go to Red Bank Lake?” Jeremy looked away from the attorney.

“I have no intention of telling you.”

“Nor, apparently, would you tell Detective Tiggular. And I bet if Christine asked you, you wouldn't tell her either.” Jeremy tense up for a moment.

“So you…”

“Met with her?” Jeremy slowly nodded. “Yeah. She’s the lead detective on this case.”

“They're both really worried about you,” added Eliza, finally speaking up. Jeremy didn't say a word. He just stared at the floor. He looked guilty enough already. But, if he was still stubborn enough to stay quiet, it was time to bust out the secret weapon.

Eliza handed Michael the photo of her father. He slid it under the glass to Jeremy.

“Have a look at this.” Jeremy picked up the photograph. It felt like a solid minute that he stared at it. Given by his shaking hand and wide eyes, he knew who was in the picture. “Jeremy?”

“It's only been a few hours since you visited me… but you have made incredible progress,” Jeremy said as he slipped the photo back to Michael. “I'll admit. I am impressed. You were always so single-minded. Once you start something, you always see it through, don't you?”

“I try,” said Michael with small shrug. Plan B had surprisingly worked. “So… about the DL-6 Incident…” Jeremy sighed.

“Right. DL-6. I…” He shook his head. “I hate hearing it. I really didn't want you involved more than you already were. I'm… I'm sorry. I just wanted to keep you away from this mess. You don't deserve to suffer like this.” Michael kept himself calm as he cleared his throat. That had to have been the nicest thing Jeremy said to him in the past few months.

“Do you really think it would be better if I stayed away now?” he asked. Jeremy just shrugged.

“I don't know. But… since you know so much now… there's no point in trying to hide it from you anymore.” He sighed. Michael heard a small, victorious squeal from Eliza. “Ask whatever you want. I'll answer the best I can.” This was the right track Michael had been trying to avoid the whole time.

“Telling me what you personally know about DL-6 would be helpful,” said Michael.

“The DL-6 Incident…” Jeremy said with a sigh. “It was when… when my mother died. You know this, Mell.”

“Right you told me about it first when we were younger. You were pretty vague about it…”

_ You came to me as soon as you got out of the hospital… my mom wouldn’t let me see you, so you came to me as soon as you could… _

“My memories from that day are… foggy. I guess it's some sort of self-defense mechanism… I don't know. I'm not a psychologist,” Jeremy continued. “In any case, they arrested a man. It's pretty clear that he was the only who could have killed her. The spirit medium they used to talk to my late mother said the same thing apparently. It was an attorney by the name of Robert Hammond that cleared his name.”

“Robert Hammond… he's the victim.”

“Yeah.”

“Um… Prosecutor Heere?” Eliza said as she collected the photo off of the table. “That spirit medium… he was my father.”

“What?” said Jeremy in slight shock. “You mean you’re… I knew your last name was familiar, but I just thought it was because of your sister…” Jeremy sighed. “It's amazing how many people are connected because of that case. I thought it was all over but now… this happens. It was just about to end…”

“About to end?” Michael repeated, a bit confused by Jeremy’s choice of words.

“Think about it, Mell. The DL-6 Incident happened almost fifteen years ago. Fifteen years ago on December 28th. That means the statute of limitations runs out in three days.” Michael nearly jumped out of his chair.

“What?!” Eliza shook Michael’s shoulder to get his attention.

“Um… Michael?” she said. “What is he talking about?”

“When a case’s statute of limitations runs out, the case legally never happened. It's closed. Forever.”

“But…” Eliza sighed. “What happened to the suspect? The one who got off?”

“I don't know,” Jeremy said with a shrug. “He up and disappeared from public view when the whole thing was done. Nobody knows where he is. If he is still alive, I'd guess he would be about fifty years old.

_ I guess I can understand why he'd go into hiding... It'd be hard to live a normal life after being a murder suspect in such a big case. _

“Um… so your mother was a lawyer?” Eliza asked, continuing on with the conversation.

“She was…” Jeremy told her with a nostalgic smile. “Hannah Heere. She was famous at the time, but I didn't see her as anything other than ‘mom’.”

“So… you were trying to follow in her footsteps.” Jeremy’s defensive walls went back up.

“Who told…” His eyes fell on Michael, who immediately shook his head. Jeremy muttered something under his breath. “I’d rather not talk about it.” Jeremy swallowed down something in his throat. He focused on Michael. “Mell.” Michael perked up. “It… pains me to ask you this now but… will you—?”

“Oh!” said Eliza with a gasp, “Do you want us to defend you?” Jeremy blinked, but gave in.

“Yes. Will you?” Michael grinned. His heart was swelling up. This was what he wanted to do.

“You don't have to ask. I would defend you no matter what.” Jeremy looked beyond relieved. “Who would have ever thought that this day would come?”

“Definitely not me.” The old friends exchanged a laugh between each other.

“This is some serious déjà vu. It feels like when we were in fourth grade all over again.” Michael received a strange look from Eliza.

“It is, isn't?”

_ So… he does remember… _

In a short time, Jeremy managed to write out the letter that would make everything official; it would make Michael his attorney. 

“Here.” He slid the letter underneath the glass. “Please. Give Christine my letter of request for me.” Michael swiftly put the letter in his coat pocket.

“Well, that's done with,” Michael said, slightly satisfied. “I guess we should—”

Michael was cut off when the world underneath his feet rumbled. The entire building began to shake. Acting on instinct, Michael braced himself up against the table. The force of the shaking pushed Eliza into him. She clung onto him for dear life.

As soon as the shaking came to a stop, it ended. Even though he had lived in California all his life, Michael Mell would never be used to earthquakes.

Eliza eased her grip on Michael’s coat. She stood back up with a relieved sigh.

“Well… that was a nice Christmas present from Mother Nature,” she said, slightly annoyed. Michael looked at the detention side of the visitor’s room. Jeremy was missing from his chair.

“Where's Jeremy?” Eliza leaned on the table, getting a better look at what lay beyond the glass that separated them.

“Right there.” Michael leaned over. Such enough, Eliza was right. By the force of the earthquake, Jeremy had fallen out of his seat. However, he wasn't getting up. He was shaking from his little spot on the floor. Michael felt his muscles go stiff.

_ Fuck! I… I forgot. Jeremy is… How could I be so stupid?! _

“Jeremy?” said Michael, trying to get the prosecutor’s attention. He banged on the glass. “Jeremy!” A security guard came over as soon as Michael started hit the glass.

“Sir, please don't hit the—"

“But—"

“Sir.” Michael groaned, leaning his forehead up against the divide.

“… just let me see if he's—”

“He's passed out. We'll take care of him from here.” Michael sighed as he watched the security guard pick up Jeremy and took him out of the visitor’s room. He didn't relax when the door shut.

“Well… I guess Prosecutor Heere isn't going to be standing any time soon,” said Eliza after a long moment. She made her way to the door. “Let's go.” Michael blinked, snapping to his senses.

“Uh… right.” Michael followed after her. They had one thing left to do. However, Michael couldn't shake what had just happened from his head.

* * *

**December 25, 2016**

**1:46 PM**

**Police Department**

**Criminal Affairs**

 

Michael and Eliza were not welcomed down in criminal affairs. In fact, they were cornered by a rather infuriated Detective Tiggular.

“Um… what's wrong, Detective?” said Michael, leaning up against one of the desks in an effort to distance himself.

“What's wrong? What's wrong?” Tiggular repeated. “What's wrong is this wild woman comes in here and says she same to talk to us after hearing what you had to say!” He pointed an accusatory finger at Michael. It was close enough to enough to press into his chest. “What's this all about?!”

_ I’m going to take a shot in the dark and say that’s Jenna Rolan… _

“Why are you going around are finding more witnesses?! She even said that she had an enlarged photo of the murder! Enlarged! You want to give Mr. Heere the death sentence!?”

“I… n-no!” That was the last thing Michael wanted. “It's just… I mean… she did see something. There's nothing I can do about that. It's not like I wanted her to come down here either! Even if it is technically hiding evidence…”

“Are you trying to say something about the way I do my job?”

“Uh… No, sir!” Michael had to think of some way to get Tiggular to back down. Shoving his hands into his pockets, Michael came up with just the thing. He pulled out what he had been given at the detention center. “But… look at what I got.” Detective Tiggular stared at the letter. His mood instantly turned around.

“Hey, you did it!” he said as if the victory had been his. He backed off of Michael. “I am glad that I waited until the last minute to files those papers. I'll rip those up and get a start on those new ones. I'll get them to Canigula right away!”

“Thanks, Detective.” Michael watched as Tiggular ran off. It was about a minute later that he had found the person that he and Eliza had actually come to see. Or rather, she had found them.

“Hey!” Christine called as she jogged over to the pair.

“Hey, Christine,” said Michael in his own warm greeting. “Oh. Here.” He held out the letter to her. Christine squealed in delight at its contents, tackling Michael in a tight squeeze. “You got it!”

“Christine, I can't breathe.” For someone so small, Christine was surprisingly strong. 

“Sorry, I’m just so…” Christine was grinning from ear to ear. “I mean, I'm not really surprised, considering it's you. But still. You're a lifesaver Michael Mell!” Michael chuckled.

“Thanks.”

_ I'm just a lawyer. Well… I guess in a way, I do save lives. The lives of the innocent! _

“Hey, did you guys feel that earthquake a while back?” Christine asked the lawyer and his assistant as she tucked away Jeremy’s letter. “I was so worried.”

“Worried?” asked Eliza, confusion painted across her face. “We're fine. I mean, I tripped but Michael caught me.”  _ If you can count you clinging to me like a koala as catching, then yes.  _ “I've lived out here my whole life. I'm pretty used to them by now.”

“That's not what my greatest worry was.” Christine bit down on one of her nails. “I was more worried about Jeremy.”

_ Oh, right… _

“He did seem to overreact now that you mention it…”said Eliza, recalling what had happened when the quake struck.

“Well, I’m not surprised. It was a pretty big one. Radio said it was about a 5.0 on the Richter scale.” Michael hissed. Had it been that big? “Either way, I'm going to go check up on Jeremy once I'm done here.”

“Call me when you do.” Michael took out a pen and took a hold of Christine’s hand.

“Yeah, no problem,” said the detective as Michael wrote out his number on the back of her hand. “Now, you two go eat and get plenty of rest for tomorrow’s trial. Later!” Christine walked away, clutching Jeremy’s letter tightly. Michael and Eliza took their own leave. Neither one said anything until they were safely in Michael’s car.

“Hey, Michael?” said Eliza as Michael pulled out of the parking lot. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot… okay, bad choice of words. What is it?”

“What is it with Prosecutor Heere and earthquakes?” Michael tightened his grip on the wheel in front of him.

“He's terrified of them. He…” the attorney explained, cutting himself off for only a moment. “He never actually told me why. In fact, he wasn't actually scared of them until fourth grade, after we came back from winter break.”

_ Then again, Jeremy never did talk about anything personal after his mother died. I wonder what happened to him…? _


	15. The State v. Jeremy Heere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trial of Jeremy Heere begins. Michael finds himself facing against a ruthless prosecutor with an unbroken win streak who seems like he will do anything to get Jeremy declared guilty. It's time for the defense to find the tiniest holes in the witness's testimony, and not throw something across the room at the prosecution. Is it possible to make it through this trial unscathed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all prepared to meet the worst person in the case?
> 
> This chapter contains bastard prosecutors and Eliza being a boss.

**December 26, 2016**

**9:44 AM**

**District Court**

**Defendant Lobby No. 2**

 

“You've got to be fucking kidding me.” Jeremy shook his head. Michael groaned, burying his face into his hands.

“That's… not even a word.”

“Yeah,” said Michael, sitting up beside Eliza. “What the hell is SQUIB...?”

“Not Squib, Mell. This isn't  _ Harry Potter _ ,” said Jeremy with a roll of his eyes. The trial was minutes from starting. It was only then that Jeremy indulged into his defense attorney as to who the prosecutor was. “It’s SQUIP. It stands for Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor. Eric Williams works like a computer; that's how he got the nickname. He is the best prosecutor there is. He hasn't lost a case in his entire thirty year career. He is a god of prosecution, Mell.” Jeremy grabbed Michael by his shoulders and shook him. “ _ A god! _ ”

“Not a single case?”questioned Eliza as Michael pushed his client off of him.

“He'll do anything to get a guilty verdict. And I mean  _ anything _ .”

“That oddly sounds like another prosecutor I know,”said Michael with a playful smirk. Jeremy’s glare made that fade rather quickly. 

“You don't understand,” Jeremy said with a huff. “I mean he really will do anything. Eric Williams is a man to be feared.”

_ That's quite a claim coming from someone who supposedly forged evidence… _

“He taught me what it really means to prosecute…” Jeremy grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. Michael shot up out of his spot on the sofa.

“What?!” he exclaimed. Jeremy sighed.

“I want you to imagine a prosecutor as vicious as me… and then multiply it by ten.” That didn't sound too good. Eliza groaned, sinking back further into the sofa.

“Taking a stab in the dark,” she said. “I'm gonna guess he was your teacher.”

“Eh… not necessarily. Well… I guess? He was my only living relative after my father's death. He took me in. I really don't know what he is to me now.” It was Eliza’s turn to stand up.

“Wait, what?!” Jeremy heavily sighed.

“Prosecutor Eric Williams is my uncle,” said Jeremy as calmly as he possibly could. “He is my mother’s older brother.” That only made Eliza’s anger grow.

“And now he’s trying to get you found guilty?! That’s horrible!” Michael took a small step away from her. “Wait, maybe he’s planning on purposely losing to help you out!” Jeremy shook his head.

“Not a chance. He hasn’t lost once in thirty years.  _ Thirty years _ , Miss Schuyler. Thirty! He’s as ruthless as me times twenty!” Michael swallowed down his ever growing nerves.

_ The number went up… _

“That’s pretty ruthless…” Eliza said. At least she was calming down… or maybe she was just as nervous as Michael was. Jeremy sighed.

“It’s why I didn’t want you to defend me, Mell,” said Jeremy. He was still clutching the forearm of his jacket. “I knew he would be the prosecutor on this case.” Michael blinked.

“That’s why?” he asked. Jeremy nodded.

“Let me put this the nicest way I can, Mell. My uncle fucking  _ despises  _ you with a burning passion.” Well, at least the feeling was mutual. “He thinks of you as an obstacle; something that needs to be ‘taken care of’, if you understand what I mean. I swear to any god that’s listening that he will do whatever it takes to  _ destroy  _ you. Especially in the courtroom.” Michael was silent as his nerves reached their peak. His hands were starting to shake.

_ Michael, calm down. Just remember why you're doing this. The reason is standing right in front of you. Do this for him.  _ Michael took a deep breath, doing his best to keep his hands steady. He had to keep calm.

“Whatever he has to throw my way, bring it on,” said Michael, building up his confidence as much as he could. “I said it before, and I’ll say it again. I will defend you. I will prove your innocence.” Michael took Jeremy’s hands in his own. “That’s a promise.”

“Just…” There was a moment where Jeremy tightened his hold on Michael’s hands. The next, he had pulled away. “Please be careful.”

_ I guess Williams was to Jeremy as  Angelica was to me. Wait, no. What am I saying? Angie isn’t a son of a bitch. Speaking of Angie…  _ Michael pulled Eliza off to the side, out of Jeremy’s earshot.

“Eliza?” Michael whispered to her. She hummed. “We really could use Angelica’s help right now.” Eliza’s face fell. She stared at the floor, her fingers brushing up against the charm around her neck. “Eliza?”

“I'm sorry,” she said dejectedly. “I can't. I tried. I’ve been trying all day. I just… can't reach her.” Michael raised an eyebrow.

“You couldn't reach her?” 

“I couldn't reach her spirit to channel her. It's because I've been slacking off on my training. My powers are weak… Michael, I'm really sorry! I'll try my best to channel her during the trial!”

“Just do what you can. That's all that matters now.”

_ This is the worst timing ever. _

“What are you whispering about?” Michael and Eliza whirled around. Jeremy was staring at them with a suspicious glint in his eye.

“Oh, nothing!” Michael said, trying to brush off the incident. Jeremy wouldn't believe him anyway. The bailiff soon called them out of the defendant’s lobby. Michael’s most important case to date was about to begin.

* * *

**December 26, 2016**

**10:00 AM**

**District Court**

**Courtroom No. 3**

 

Michael felt Prosecutor Eric Williams boring holes into him. Could he glare any harder? Michael swallowed down the lump in his throat. He really wished Eliza could be standing with him right now. In a way, she was. Except that she was busy trying to reach Angelica on the other side. She wouldn’t say a thing while doing it just to focus.

“The defense is more than ready, Your Honor,” said Michael as the trial started. Williams was silent.

“Err, Mr. Williams? Is the prosecution ready?” asked the Judge.

“... Fool,” was the first word to come out of the prosecutor's mouth. Michael wasn't sure who he was referring to: him or the Judge. “If I weren't prepared, would I be standing here?”

“R-Right, my apologies!”

_ He's even got the Judge scared! _

“Very well, your opening statement, please.”

“It's an open and shut case,” said Prosecutor Williams. “We have decisive evidence, a decisive witness, and a guilty defendant.” Williams moved his highly trained glare to Jeremy, who sunk back into the defendant’s chair to make himself look smaller. “What else could be needed?”

“Ah… er, nothing of course. Th-That should be fine. The prosecution may call its first witness.” Michael bit back a groan.

_ Who does this guy think he is? How am I supposed to fight him when he has nearly the whole court under his thumb?! Wait… maybe I could literally fight him… No, wait. That would get me arrested, too. I don't need that again. _

“I call the detective in charge of this case, Detective Christine Canigula.”

_ Okay, Christine is first… She’s on my side. She has to give us some clear evidence to prove Jeremy’s innocence… Let's see how this goes. _

Christine stepped up to the witness stand. She shared a brief glance with Jeremy, giving him a small smile of reassurance. That quickly went away when Williams barked at her to describe the crime.

_ Christine looks nervous… come on girl, keep it together! _

“The murder in question happened late at night on Christmas Eve, around midnight,” Christine told the court. “There was a boat in the middle of Red Bank Lake. On it were two men. Now, there just so happened to be a woman camping near the edge of the lake. At 12:10 AM, she claims to have heard two gunshots. After that, the boat moved back to a small rental shop near the lake docks.” That didn't seem to incriminate Jeremy at all.

“Testify to the court about your arrest,” Prosecutor Williams ordered the Detective with a snap of his fingers. Out of the corner of his eye, Michael saw Jeremy flinch. “Now!”

“W-W-Wait!” stumbled out the Judge, “Mr. Williams…” Williams calmed down enough to glance up at His Honor.

“Yes?”

“Actually, I'm the one that's supposed to be handling these proceedings…”

“Wrong.” And the old Williams was back. “All you need to do is slam your gavel and declare the defendant guilty!”

“Y-Yes, of course. You're quite right.”

_ No he's not!  _ With the Judge hiding his tail between his legs, Williams was in full control of the court. He made Christine testify further.

“A-A man called in the report about the gunshots about thirty minutes after the murder,” said Christine. The drop in her confidence was clearly noticeable. “A few officers who had stayed at the station that night got there as fast as they could. That's when they found Mr. Heere. There was no reason to suspect him of anything, so they let him go. That was… until…” Christine tensed up. “Someone found the body washed ashore the lake the next morning. After that… there was no other option but to arrest Mr. Heere.”

“Attorney!” Michael jumped as Williams turned on him. “Start your cross-examination.” Michael fired a glare at Williams. Giving him that signal was not a smart choice.

“Miss Canigula,” said Michael when he finally came up with a question to ask Christine. “Did you find any clues on the body?” Christine paused a minute before nodding.

“Yes,” she said. “The coroner recovered a single bullet from the victim’s heart. The wound was declared to be fatal.”

“And that little bullet would happen be right here,” said Williams. He brought out the bullet in question, sealed up in an evidence bag. “Its shape is well preserved. It's a miracle it didn't strike bone.”

“Very well. The court accepts this bullet into evidence.” The bullet was added to the table of evidence in the center of the courtroom. Michael had to come up with another question.

“Why did you have to arrest J—” This was a trial, Michael had to remind himself of that, “Mr. Heere?”

“Well… we found the murder weapon in the boat. It was a pistol.”

“Detective Canigula…” Christine swallowed down something as the Judge focused in on her. “That is a vital piece of information. Please revise your testimony.”

“Right! S-Sorry, Your Honor.” She looked as nervous as Michael felt. “Anyway, as I said. The pistol is… unfortunately… decisive evidence against Mr. Heere.” Michael stared at her.

“What about the pistol made it ‘decisive evidence’?” Before Christine could answer the question, a cackling laugh echoed from the prosecution’s bench. It sent shivers down Michael’s spine.

_ That isn't going to leave my nightmares any time soon. _

“There were… um… fingerprints on the pistol,” Christine said, staring at her feet. “They were clear prints belonging to Mr. Heere’s right hand.”

“Wh… What?!” Chatter erupted in the courtroom.

“So, Mr. Heere's fingerprints were found on the murder weapon!?” said the Judge as soon as the ruckus came to a still. Christine didn't say a word; she just nodded.

“This would happen to be the weapon in question,” Williams announced to the court. He brought out another bag, this time holding a pistol. The pistol was added to the table of evidence. “Now we have the pistol used for the murder and the bullet that was found inside of the body. Detective!” Christine jumped and yelped at Williams snapping his fingers at her. “Was this bullet found in the body fired from the pistol presented?”

“Y-Y-Yes, sir… the ballistic markings matched the pistol…” Michael gritted his teeth. He felt a tug on his jacket. Eliza had broken her stance and was trying to get his attention.

“What exactly is she talking about when she says ‘ballistic markings’?” she asked. Michael opened his mouth to reply, only to get a devious laugh from the prosecution.

“Shocking!” said Williams, fake sympathy dripping from his voice. “To imagine that someone here doesn’t know what ballistic markings are! It’s so basic!” He fired off one of his famous glares in Eliza’s direction. Eliza slunk back. It was Michael’s turn to glare at him.

_ Give her a break, you Keanu-Reeves-looking bastard. She’s not a lawyer or a cop. _

“Think of ballistic markings as the fingerprints of a gun,” Michael explained to his co-counsel. “The barrel leaves distinctive marks on each bullet that it fires. If you examine these, you can figure out what gun fired which bullet.”

“Indeed,” added Williams. “And that leads to only one conclusion: the bullet found in the victim's heart was, without a shadow of a doubt, fired from the pistol. The same pistol which was covered in the defendant’s own fingerprints!” The chatter among the gallery members fell mute on Michael’s ears.

_ This is bad... This makes it look like Jeremy did it! Why are his fingerprints on the gun?! They have to be planted or… or something!  _ Michael glanced over at the defendant’s chair. Jeremy was still in the same state was before. He looked like he wanted to disappear.

“Well, Judge?” said Williams once the court had calmed down.

“I'd say it's almost decisive, yes. Honestly, I could declare a verdict at this point,” said the Judge. “However…”

“You wish to hear our witness speak.” Williams looked a bit irritated. “Very well. I will call my witness after a ten minute recess. Judge!”

“Y-Yes?”

“I said a ten minute recess.  _ Now _ .”

“B-But, wait, I…” Williams snapped his fingers once again.

“Just bang your gavel and get on with it!” The judge cleared his throat.

“Y-Yes! This court will take a ten minute recess.” The bang of the gavel brought the trial to a ten minute stand-still. Michael couldn't believe what he was seeing.

_ Who exactly is running this court!? _

* * *

**December 26, 2016**

**11:09 AM**

**District Court**

**Defendant Lobby No. 2**

 

Michael paced back and forth in the defendant’s lobby. Eliza was still trying to channel her sister. Jeremy was sat down, his face in his hands.

“What is going on here?!” said Michael, raising his voice barely above normal level. “Your fingerprints were on the murder weapon!”

“Uh…”

“Not to mention I know that they've got a photo that makes it pretty damn clear that the only person who could have shot Hammond was in said photo!”

“T-True…” Jeremy stuttered. Michael stopped his pacing. He groaned, raking his fingers through his hair. Why did this have to be so difficult? He looked down at Jeremy. He sighed.

“Jeremy…” Michael stood across from him. “Was that you in the boat?” There was a long, sullen silence.

“... Yes. Th-That was me…” That had not been the answer Michael was expecting.

“What?!” Jeremy looked up at him. His emotions were clearly open on his face. Jeremy looked like he was about to breakdown any second.

“You have to believe me,” he pleaded. “I didn't shoot him! I'm not a… I'm not a…” He couldn't even say the word.

“Then who did?!”

“I… I don't know.”

“You were right there!” Jeremy took in a shaky breath.

“I-I-I heard a gunshot. Then… the… the other man just fell out of the boat. I thought… I thought… at the time… that he, you know, shot himself!”

“You mean it was suicide?!” Jeremy slowly nodded.

“It's the only explanation I can come up with. Either that, or the whole thing was faked. But that’s impossible, there was a body!” Michael sighed, pushing back his hair. God, this was hard. Incriminating evidence and most likely an incriminating testimony Michael couldn't pry apart would be the end of all this.

“Okay…” Michael said, trying to pacify himself. There had to be some sort of plan. “Okay. We just… we need to calm down and think about this.”

_ How am I going to convince anyone of that!? I really need Angelica now…  _ Michael got up and walked over to Eliza. He gently shook her shoulder, breaking her out of meditation. She slowly opened her eyes, glancing up at Michael.

“Any progress?” he asked. Eliza sighed, shaking her head.

“It's no good,” Eliza groaned. “It never took me so long to try and channel someone before. I don't know what's wrong…” Michael loudly groaned. Things were getting worse and worse. 

“This is bad.”

“I know…” Eliza curled her arms around herself, lowering her head. “I'm not good for anything. If I can't call my sister, I might as well not be here.” Michael’s gaze softened. He tried to relax himself. He didn't realize how upset Eliza truly was about this.

“No.” Eliza looked up at Michael. He put his hands on her shoulders, getting down on her level. “I need you. I can see that you're trying to help. It's the thought that counts.” Eliza sighed, brushing Michael’s hands away.

“It's okay. You don't have to make me feel better. I don't know anything about defense or trials… Look at me. I'm a spirit medium who can't even summon spirits!”

“Everyone has their off days. I mean, I've been just getting lucky. You never know when that luck might run out!”

“Mell!”

_ Shit. I forgot Jeremy is in the room. _ Michael nervously laughed.

“Don't jinx this!” Jeremy screeched. “Its already bad enough!” He moaned, burying his face back into his hands. “You are going to kill me before my conviction does…”

“Whoa, hey, don't talk like that!” Michael firmly planted himself between Jeremy and Eliza on the couch. “Sorry about that but… Both of you. Look at me.” He pointed to Jeremy. “You are going to get an acquittal. I'm not going to let you die.” Michael turned to Eliza. “And you are a great spirit medium. You’re doing your best and that's all that matters.” He stood up, taking in a deep breath. “Okay, now let's get back into that courtroom and win this! What's the worse thing that could possibly go wrong?!” Jeremy and Eliza exchanged brief looks with one another.

“You've lost it, haven't you Michael?”

“That might be his nerves taking over.”

_ You two are so helpful. Well, time to go back into the courtroom and try  _ not  _ to strangle Prosecutor Williams… or throw my pen at his stupid face. _

* * *

**December 26, 2016**

**11:20 AM**

**District Court**

**Courtroom No. 3**

 

The court came back into session. Michael’s wish to at least throw a pen at Williams hadn't dimmed. The prosecutor called his witness to testify. As was expected, the witness was Jenna Rolan.

“Jenna Rolan,” said Prosecutor Williams as Jenna took to the stand, “you are a research student at a university?” Jenna proudly nodded.

“I am.”

“Good. Now, begin by telling us what you saw on the night of the incident. Don't add anything trivial or subjective. Am I understood?”

“... You need to learn some manners.” Michael couldn't help but snicker at Jenna’s sass towards Williams. Williams slammed a hand on the bench. Once again, Michael caught Jeremy flinching.

“Understand?!”

“Y-Yeah! Crystal!” Williams seemed to frighten the whole court. Even the Judge was scared when he finally allowed Jenna to give her testimony. 

“It was Christmas Eve, just a bit after midnight. I was in my van when I heard this BANG come from the lake,” Jenna testified. “I looked out the window, and I saw two guys in a boat. Then there another BANG! One of the guys fell out. There wasn't anything on that lake but the boat.” Jenna was cut off there when Williams raised his hand.

“Judge!” Williams said with a snap of his fingers. He reached under the prosecutor’s bench and pulled out another piece of evidence. Michael felt his throat tighten. “The witness happened to take a photo of the incident.” Williams held the photo out to the court, passing up a copy to the Judge. “You will accept it as evidence.” The Judge took a look at this new piece of evidence. Michael really wanted to throw a pen across the room.

“W-Well! This is a surprise!” said the Judge. Michael didn’t like the tone of his voice. “This looks like... the very moment of the murder!”

“It is as the witness testified,” Williams said with a victorious smirk. “She looked out at the lake and heard the shot. There were no other boats on the lake that night. No one other than the man with the victim could have shot him! And that man is the defendant, Jeremy Heere!” Jeremy looked like he was about to throw up. “Well, Judge?”

“The evidence is... decisive. I have very little doubt about this case,” said the Judge. He raised his gavel. “Very well, this court finds the defendant…” No, this couldn't be happening! Michael had to act quickly.

“OBJECTION!” shouted the defense. “Your Honor, I still need to cross-examine the witness!”

“A cross-examination?” said Williams with a snide laugh. “We have photographic evidence! This photo is worth a thousand words, and all of them are ‘guilty’. You lose, Michael Mell… or do you claim to have found a contradiction?” Michael didn't say a word. He just stared at the prosecutor, trying his best to maintain his ground without anger or nervousness taking over. Williams sighed. “Very well. If you must, cross-examine the witness. You will only struggle and ask meaningless questions! When you fail to find anything, I will have you held in contempt of court!” Michael felt his muscles tense.

_ Oh no _ .

“Uh… Michael?” Eliza whispered to him with a nudge of her arm. “What does he mean by contempt…?”

“Contempt of court,” Michael whispered back. “It means we’ll be dragged out of the courtroom for failing to follow an order from the Judge and/or causing a disturbance.”

_ I'm gonna guess this is the latter here…  _ Eliza slowly nodded.

“Well… what are you going to do? Do you think that there's a contradiction in her testimony?”

“Honestly, I heard nothing,” Michael said with a heaving sigh. This was bad.

“I don't know. I thought her testimony was a bit strange. It was so… vague.”

“I bet Williams probably fed her lines…” Michael shot a brief glare in the prosecutor’s direction.

“But if you don't cross-examine her, then the Judge will—"

“He'll bang down his gavel and declare Jeremy guilty.” Michael felt like screaming.

“You could always bluff it.”

_ That is what I do best… _

“But if I mess up…” Michael swallowed down the lump forming in his throat. “Contempt of court.”

“The outcome is greater than the risk!”

_ True… the risk is worth it. _ Michael gathered his resolve.

“I will cross-examine the witness!” He announced to the court. This only made Williams mad.

“I pray for your sake this isn't a waste of time,” said the Judge. Michael ran Jenna’s testimony through his head. He still couldn't find any contradictions. Time for Plan B: press Jenna until she broke.

“Miss Rolan,” Michael said to the witness. “why were you camping at Red Bank Lake, anyway?”

“I'm a research student,” Jenna answered, not looking the attorney in the eye. “I was taking pictures for a project.”

_ What research? She never specified. This all sounds suspicious… _

“Um… Miss Rolan,” Michael asked. “Could you be more specific about what research you were doing?” Before Jenna could answer…

“OBJECTION!” shouted Williams. “What does that have to do with the case? The answer is nothing! I object to this line of questioning! Objection sustained!”

“W-W-Wait, now, I'm the one who says that!” protested the Judge.

“Then say it!”

“... Objection sustained.” Michael groaned. Williams really did have the Judge pinned.

_ Thanks for nothing, Your Honor… Okay. I have to think of another question… nothing about her… maybe about something she saw? _

“Did you see the two men clearly?” Michael asked Jenna.

“You saw the picture!” protested Jenna. “Its crystal clear!” Michael opened his record. He took out the photo Jenna had given him the day before. He blinked.

_ Wait a second. _

“HOLD IT!” Michael shouted, slamming a hand down on the bench. “I wasn't asking you about the photo. I was asking if  _ you _ saw the two men, not your camera!”

“Uh… yeah… well… of course…” Jenna stammered. She was avoiding something. Eliza was burning holes into the witness.

“OBJECTION!” shouted Williams. “The witness testified that she saw them, and there's a photo! You better look somewhere else for your precious contradictions!”

_ He jumped in quick... He's hiding something! He has to be!  _ Michael ignored Williams. He continued to press Jenna further.

“Were you watching the very moment the shot rang out?”

“Well…”

“OBJECTION!” Michael reached for a pen. Eliza kept his hand from it. “All your questions are meaningless! We're looking for contradictions, Mr. Mell. Not meaningless chatter!” Michael gritted his teeth together.

_ Freaking SQUIP… I think I hate you even more than I did before. He's trying to keep me from talking to the witness… To what end...?  _ Michael once again ignored the SQUIP. He had to find that contradiction. He had to!

“Are you sure that you saw it?”

“As sure as sure can be! I scanned the whole lake!”

_ "Scanned the whole lake"? It almost sounds like she was more interested in the lake than the boat… _

“Miss Rolan…” said Michael. There was a faint idea in his head. It was definite, but it was something. “You—”

“OBJECTION!” Michael responded a low growl from his throat at being interrupted by Prosecutor Williams once again. “Mr. Mell. The witness had already answered that question. There is no need to further press her! Objection sustained!” The Judge complied with Williams’ objection. Michael groaned, face-planting into his hands.

_ Oh great... What am I supposed to do now? _

“Enough!” Michael looked up. The Judge’s single word did not sound good for him. “I think we've heard all we need to hear, Mr. Mell. It seems you are unable to find a contradiction in the testimony worth noting.” Michael  straightened up faster than lightening, slamming both hands on the bench.

“But Your Honor!”

“You will keep your promise and stay silent!” snapped Williams.

“Mr. Mell.” Michael tried to keep up a crumbling confident façade as the Judge turned on him. He couldn't lose. Not here, not now! “I am afraid that I will have to penalize any further outbursts... By holding you in contempt of court!” Michael slowly nodded. There was nothing he could think of to say.

_ I can't say anything… I can't do anything… Jeremy’s going to… _

“I believe we've covered the evidence sufficiently to make a decision.”

“Then, pass your judgment!” Williams was smirking. Michael felt his stomach churn.

“Very well. Mr. Jeremy Heere, please take the stand.” There was a loud bang as someone brought their hands down on the bench.

“HOLD IT!” Jeremy was barely out of the defendant’s chair. Michael stared at the woman standing next to him.

_ Eliza!? What are you doing?! _

“I-Is something wrong?” asked the Judge. The entire court was baffled by Eliza’s sudden outburst. “D-Do you need to use the facilities?”

“No,” said Eliza. She pointed at the witness. Jenna had barely taken a step away from the witness stand. “Your testimony sucks! You haven't actually said that you were looking out at the lake! I doubt that you even saw Mr. Heere! Tell the truth! This is a matter of life and death!” Sweat began to bead around Jenna’s forehead.  “Did you clearly see Mr. Heere on the night of December 24th?! Did you see him fire that pistol!?” The Judge banged his gavel.

“You will stand down! The court does not acknowledge the defense's outburst!” Eliza didn't listen. She pounded the bench again.

“Answer me!”

“What's the big idea?!” said Jenna. It was obvious that she was nervous. “I saw him! I swear! I clearly saw Jeremy Heere!”

“OBJECTION!” Only Williams could get Eliza to back down. “Enough! Judge... Declare the defense in contempt of court!” 

_ No. _

“Y-Yes… yes, of course.” Of all the times for the Judge to side with the prosecution. “I'm sorry, but you  _ were _ warned. Guard! Escort Mr. Mell out of the courtroom! He is in contempt of court and must leave.” Michael felt panic as the bailiffs move towards the defense’s bench. 

_ No... No...! _

“Wait!” Eliza shouted, holding up her hand. “I-I was the one who made the outburst, Your Honor! Michael is innocent!”

“What's the difference?” argued Williams. “All that remains is for the guilty verdict to be called. Isn't that right, Mr. Michael Mell?” Michael wasn't letting do that easily. If he could do anything to stop Williams from winning, it would be now.

“Wrong!” All color drained from Williams’ face.

“What?!”

“You heard just as I did that Miss Rolan said she  _ clearly _ saw Mr. Heere! That wasn't in her original testimony! That's changes it, and it means I have the right to cross-examine her again!”

“But you're in contempt of court! It's too late for your wild claims! Isn't that right, Judge?” There was a tense moment of silence.

“... I'm sorry, Mr. Williams, but I cannot,” said His Honor. Michael lit up. Finally.  _ Finally _ something in this trial was going right. To make it even better, Williams was starting to lose his cool.

“What?!” exclaimed the prosecutor.

“Ms. Jenna Rolan has made a new testimony. The defense does have a right to cross-examine her again.”

“But he is in contempt of court! He should be thrown out onto the street!” 

“Michael is not in contempt of court!” shouted Eliza, hitting the bench a third time. “If anyone is in contempt, it's me!”

_ Eliza... _

“Hmm... Very well. Elizabeth Schuyler! You will leave the courtroom immediately.” The bailiffs came around. Eliza was calm as they grabbed her arms.

“Michael!” She called as the men began to drag her out of the courtroom. “It's up to you! Good luck!” The door slammed shut.

“E-Eliza…”

_ I'm running out of time… I'd better find a contradiction in here or else… I don't want to think about it… _

Jenna testified again, saying she clearly saw Jeremy on the boat. There had to be some piece of evidence that contradicted her. Michael reached for his court record. He didn't even have to touch it. Laying next to the file was the photo Jenna took on the night of the murder. 

_ Something’s strange about this… what was it Eliza said yesterday? Uh… oh, right! She said you can't tell who is shooting who. I guess it was pretty foggy that night… hold up a second. _

“Finally! Finally!” Michael exclaimed. This might just turn the trial around. He held up the photograph to Jenna. “Take a look at this.”

“The picture I took…?” Jenna asked, eyebrow raised. Michael nodded.

“The very same. In this photo, there is only one this that is very clear. The fog.”

“S… So?” Jenna was close to break from that fragile shell Williams had carefully crafted.

“This picture was taken with high quality film, right?” Jenna hesitated before nodded. “Yet, even it could not capture the faces of the two men! Yet, you claimed that you clearly saw Mr. Heere!”

“Wh… What?!”

“Mr. Mell has a point!”

“OBJECTION!” protested Williams. Eyes focused on the witness. “That's why I told her not to mention it in her testimony!”

“Well, now she said it,” said Michael, relieved to have something to build his defense on and demolish Williams. He turned to Jenna. “How you could possibly see Mr. Heere?! Explain!” Jenna bit down on her lip. She was quiet. A little too quiet.

“Ms. Rolan,” said the Judge firmly.

“What?”

“Could you see the defendant that night?”

“O-Of course!” Jenna stuttered. “I said I could, and I mean it!”

“Then, please testify as to the circumstances of your sighting.”

_ I did it! I finally found a hole in Williams' carefully vague testimony! Add another point for me on the scoreboard! Now time to tear that hole wider! _

“You're right…” Jenna testified with a sigh. “It was pretty cold that night. The fog was thicker than pea soup. So as soon as I was finished setting up my camera, I got back in my van. Still, I bought a pair of binoculars with me. When I heard that bang out on the lake, I could see what was going on with them. See? No problems there!”

_ Okay… I don't see anything wrong with that testimony either. But, if I can tear one apart, I can tear them all apart! _

“Ms. Rolan, you said that you were out there to photograph a meteor shower… why?” Michael asked, recalling an earlier statement. “The fog got pretty thick on that lake. Ask anyone. That's not suited for stargazing.”

“Yeah… well…”

“OBJECTION!” shouted Williams. “Mell, I will not have you badgering my witness because of her challenged intellect!”

“Hey!” Jenna growled. “Look, I saw Jeremy Heere on that lake. Clear. As. Day. I was photographing the stars when it happened. I just said thi—” Michael smirked. The trap had been activated.

“OBJECTION!” shouted the defense. “I claim that the witness's uh… claim is a lie!” Michael pulled out the photograph Jenna had given him the day prior. “This was taken on an automatic setting, right?” Jenna slowly nodded. “If you are photographing the stars… why wasn’t the camera pointed at the sky?”

“Mr. Mell!” exclaimed the Judge. “What are you driving at?”

“I suggest that the witness was not photographing the stars as she claims, Your Honor!” Michael had a feeling. He wasn’t sure if it was the right one to have, but taking another look at the evidence he had collected so far yielded a possibility. Michael took out the article Rich had given him. “I propose that this is what you really were trying to photograph.”

“What’s this?” Michael passed the article up to the Judge. “A newspaper article? ‘Reddy’...? Ah, the sighting at Red Bank Lake…” Michael could see the irritation on Jenna’s face.

“Well, Miss Rolan? Do you deny these claims?”

“I… I…” stuttered Jenna. He was so close. “Where’s your proof? Let me see you prove it!” Michael leaned back against the bench. Crap. He shifted through his head and his files for a possibility. What did he know about Jenna? She was pretending to photograph the stars… Michael shoved his hands into his pocket. He felt something brush up against it. Curious, he took it out. It was the remains from the party popper yesterday. A memory came to mind.

_ Wait… her camera was set up to take picture whenever it heard a loud noise. If I read the article right... _

“The proof would be your own camera,” Michael said as he pocketed the popper once more. “It was set up to take pictures as a response to loud noises, right?” Jenna hesitated. In the end, she did nod. “Thus the photograph here—” Michael held up the picture again, “—was taken when the gun fired on the lake. And here. In the article about ‘Reddy’. According to it, the monster made a loud bang when it emerged! That’s why your camera was set to respond to loud noises! You were trying to capture a photo of the Red Bank Lake monster!” Chatter erupted in the courtroom. The Judge banged his gavel.

“I see…” said the Judge once he calmed things down. “I, too, thought it was a little strange.”

_ Yeah, sure, you did Your Honor.  _ Michael sighed. Oh well, at least he had gotten his point across.

“Well, Ms. Rolan?” he asked the witness. “Were you there to take a picture Reddy?” Jenna didn’t look up at the lawyer. She pouted.

“Okay, fine,” she said with a hint of animosity. “Aren’t you smart? You got me. I was there to see Reddy. So what?” Michael stared at her. Huh? “Does that change what I saw? No. No it doesn’t.” Crap.

“Exactly,” said a smirking Williams. “You just wasted several minutes trying to prove nothing. All you find out is that the witness is an idiot who thinks monsters exist!”

“Hey!”

“But, it is as she had just said. This change in her testimony changes nothing!” Michael gritted his teeth together, his eyes flashing in frustration.

_ Not true! You were hiding the whole thing about Reddy for some reason, I know it! But what could it have been...? Whatever it is, I'm getting to the bottom of this!  _ The Judge ordered Jenna to testify again, amending her testimony with this new information. Michael tried to calm down.  _ Something will change... it has to! And I'm going to find it and tear this testimony apart! _

“I’m not a research student at all, I’m an investigative photographer,” admitted Jenna, still pouting. “I was camping by that lake to get a big scoop on the monster. That's all I was hiding, I swear! When I heard the bang, I really did look out onto the lake. There wasn’t much else to look at besides that boat. There was a flash near one of the men’s hands, then another gunshot. I was looking right at the boat the whole time. I swear it!” The Judge was just about to give the defense his have to cross-examine the witness, Williams cut him off.

“The witness’s testimony has not changed at all!” he argued. “Her occupation has no bearing on the case! There is no need to waste anymore of our time!”

“OBJECTION!” Michael shouted. “I claim my right to cross-examine the witness, Your Honor!”

_ Williams is up to something, I know it! He doesn't want me to cross-examine her because… why? Was there a contradiction? Focus, Michael. Focus! _

“Very well,” said the Judge with a nod. Michael silently cheered at the small win. “You seem sure of yourself, you must have something in mind.”

“That would be a first!” Williams laughed. Michael rolled his eyes.

_ Ha ha, very funny. Asshole. _ This was Michael's last chance for a cross-examination. he just needed a small contradiction. Just one. Otherwise the Judge would announce his verdict and… Michael shook his head. He didn’t want to think about it. He couldn’t think about it.

He ran through Jenna’s testimony once more.

“Miss Rolan, you said that there wasn’t much else to see?” he asked her. Jenna nodded. 

_ I dunno. If she heard a bang… and she thought Reddy was out there… I kind of doubt she'd waste any time looking at a boat.  _ Michael stared at her.  _ Definitely suspicious… Maybe it's time for some evidence… _

“Miss Rolan, were you  _ really _ looking at the boat?” Michael asked. Jenna grit her teeth.

“Of course I was!” she protested. “It was the only thing out there. Anyone would look at it.”

“I completely agree. Anyone would. Anyone but you.” Jenna went pale. “You were the one who was camping on that lake that night to take a picture of Reddy. Just think. What would you do if you were to hear a loud noise?” Jenna grumbled something unintelligible. “You would be scanning the lake for the monster! You wouldn’t have given that boat a second thought!” 

Jenna balled up her hands. Michael was so close to breaking her. He needed the truth. He needed to find it. He needed to find it now.

“You testified that you were watching the boat through a pair of binoculars correct?” Michael continued. Jenna nodded. “Why would you need binoculars for that? You didn’t. You needed them to search for Reddy. And that’s exactly what you were doing at the moment of the murder!” Jenna felt quiet. “Well?”

“Now that you mention it…” Jenna begrudgingly answered. “I did… scan the lake. A little bit. To try and find Reddy.”

“M-Ms. Rolan!” exclaimed the Judge. “A-Are you saying that you were  _ not _ watching the boat, then?” Jenna didn’t look to anyone. it was written on her face.

“I wasn’t lying,” she said, sounding upset. “I just thought… I could be a witness in a murder! I got excited. I was sure that I was watching that boat… until now that is.”

“... This... this is totally uncalled for—”

“B-But! But! I got the photograph! You got your proof! I took the photo and I…”

“OBJECTION!” Williams cried, cutting off Jenna right then and there. “That’s enough out of you, witness. Shut your pie-hole.”

“Oh, you did not just tell me to shut up.”

_ What was she going to say? She took the photo… and what? Wait a second… Didn’t Tiggular say something about her photo… wait. I remember! She enlarged that photo! Why won’t Williams let her show it? I bet that enlarged photo shows something bad for Williams! This is my chance! If I'm wrong, though, it'll mean prison for Jeremy… or worse. No, no, stop thinking like that! Ahh… What should I do!? _

Michael made his choice.

“Ms. Rolan,” said Michael towards the witness. “Look at your picture again. You enlarged this photo, did you not?” 

“Yeah!” Jenna said with a nod. “But… that’s not the photograph I gave you.”

“Then why haven’t you presented it to the court?” 

“OBJECTION!” Williams shouted, stopping Jenna from speaking once more. “The photo… it… it doesn't exist!” Williams was the one now breaking down, not Jenna. Jenna, apparently, had enough of this.

“You’re the one who told me not to present it to the court!” she snapped at the prosecution. In an effort to piss off the one person who kept putting her down the entire trial, Jenna presented her enlarged photo. The tables were turned. Michael was on the winning side.

The enlargement clearly showed the outline of two men. One was firing a pistol at the other. However, even with the enlargement, it was hard to see the men’s faces through the fog.

_ There has to be something! _

The cross-examination was about to end. Michael focused on the photograph, urgent to find something. The Judge was ready to give his verdict. And with the given evidence… That verdict would be guilty. Michael felt a pit drop into his stomach.

_ Wait… it's not supposed to go like this! There has to be a clue in this photo… somewhere! This is bad! Real bad! What should I do!? _ He took a deep breath.  _ Okay… here goes nothing! _

“Your Honor, wait!” Michael cried out before the Judge could bang his gavel down. “Look at the shooter! Look at the hand holding the pistol!”

“The hand….?” said the Judge, confused.

“It is the shooter’s left hand!”

“This man's left hand does what...!?” Michael relaxed. Yes. Yes, this was it. If he could even so much as get another day… then that would be perfect.

“The evidence presented here is crystal clear. Oh wait, but there were the prints from the defendant’s right hand found on the weapon. That man in the picture is holding the pistol in his left hand. Do you see what I’m getting at?”

“OBJECTION!” cried out Williams. “The defendant could have switched hands! He could have shot with his left, wiped down those prints and grabbed it with his right!” Williams was just grasping now. That was ridiculous in its own right.

“I can prove that’s impossible. Mr. Heere isn’t left-handed.”

“Prove it then.” Michael picked up a scrap of paper, crumpling up in his hands. 

“Hey, Jeremy! Think fast!” He chucked the paper ball at Jeremy. The defendant narrowly missed catching it, but got a hold of it in a second. He had caught it with his left hand. “Now toss it back to me.” Jeremy, as confused as the rest of the court, threw the ball back to Michael with his opposite hand.

“... what was that supposed to prove exactly?”

“I didn’t learn much from my phys-ed classes, but I do remember one thing. A person usually throws with their dominant hand. Mr. Heere just threw with his right. I believe that’s proof enough that Mr. Heere wasn’t the one who shot the victim!”

“You have given us definitive proof today. We now know that it was not Mr. Heere who fired the pistol that night,” said the Judge. Michael was pleased that his bluff had passed for definitive evidence. “However…” Oh no. That never was a good sign. “This leaves us with a rather large problem. If Mr. Heere didn't do it, then who shot our victim?”

“Precisely,” added Williams. “It is as we have seen. There were no other people on the lake that night. Who else could have shot the victim?” Michael thought back to what Jeremy had told him in the defendant’s lobby.

“The victim could have committed suicide!” he argued. “It’s the only other explanation remaining.”

“OBJECTION! I'm so very, very sorry, Mr. Mell. But suicide is out of the question. An examination of the victim's wound reveals the distance at which he was shot. The victim was clearly shot from further than a meter away! There is no way it could have been suicide!”

“Mr. Williams!” said the Judge. “Are you sure of the accuracy of your data!?” Williams added.

“Of course. I’m not stupid.” Williams sent a look at Michael, “... like some lawyers in this room.” He was seconds away from getting a pen to his face.

“Hmm... I see. Very well, allow me to state my opinion. Considering the situation, the shooter had to be the defendant, Mr. Heere. However!” There was an however? “The prints on the gun reveal that the shooter was not Mr. Heere. This is a conundrum. Therefore, I would like to suspend proceedings for this trial for the day. The court orders the defense and the prosecution to further investigate this matter. Understood?” Michael sighed in relief. Yes… YES! He had gotten another day. Another day that Jeremy would live.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“That is all. The court is adjourned!” The bang of the gavel made all of Michael’s tension melt away. One more day. He had gotten one more day.

* * *

 

**December 26, 2016**

**1:15 PM**

**District Court**

**Defendant Lobby No. 2**

 

Any relief Michael had doubled when he stepped into the defendant's lobby with Jeremy. His legs were shaking. The rush of adrenaline had passed. He collapsed into the sofa.

“Oh my God,” he said, taking deep breaths in between his words. Jeremy was just standing there, leaning up against the wall and staring out the window.

“This is no time for relaxation,” he said, dejected. “I have yet to be declared innocent.”

“Well… yeah but..” Michael sat up. Wait a minute. The end of the trial… something didn’t add up. “Jer, what happened out on the lake anyway? Hammond didn’t commit suicide, and the shooter was just a meter way.” Jeremy turned back to look at his defense lawyer.

“Don’t stare at me like that,” he said. “Look at me when I say this. I did not kill him!”

“I know you didn’t.” Michael stood up, crossing over to Jeremy. “I never suspected that you did in the first place.” Jeremy’s jaw dropped for a moment. He clamped it shut again, staring at the floor. Well, this had grown awkward. 

“I’m going to go…” Michael took a few steps towards the door. “I’m gonna go check on Eliza.” He was ready to leave when Jeremy called him back.

“Can you tell Miss Schuyler something for me?” he asked. Michael nodded. “Tell her to watch her mouth in court.” Michael rolled his eyes as he took his leave of the lobby.

_ Yeah, I'm sure she'll be happy to hear you say that, Jeremy. _

* * *

_ I ordered a transcript copy of Jenna's entire testimony. I thought it might give me some ammunition for the trial tomorrow. Of course she didn't see the shooter... So the only part of her testimony that was kept in was the "bang" she heard… _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be referring to the SQUIP as Eric Williams during this case. SQUIP here is just a nickname, so please bear that in mind. The Judge isn't going to call him that when asking him to give his opening statement.


	16. The Boat on the Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael is in for a long day. More investigating leads to more confusing evidence. Then again, life never makes finding the truth easy.

**December 26, 2016**

**2:30 PM**

**Detention Center**

**Visitor's Room**

 

Michael nearly drove over the speed limit trying to get to the detention center. He still couldn't believe what Eliza had done. The guards were more than helpful in letting Michael see Eliza. The two sat across from each other.

“Hey,” said Eliza, fiddling with the end of her hair. “I heard that Prosecutor Heere made it through okay.”

“Eliza, you know what I really want to talk about.” Eliza slid down in her chair. “Why did you take the contempt of court like that?” All Eliza gave Michael as answer was a little shrug.

“I… really don't know. I just felt like I had to do something.”

“Well… you did save the trial.” If Eliza hadn't given Michael more time, he would have never spotted the contradiction in Jenna’s photo. “Have you been questioned yet?”

“No. Not yet,” said Eliza, shaking her head. “Detective Tiggular said that they'll let me go after questioning since this is my first offense...well, the first offense I'm guilty of.” Michael sighed. There was a relief and a half. “Oh. Hey… you'll pay my bail, right?” Michael stared at her through the glass.

“... how much is it?” He didn't have much in the terms of funds. He was on the last legs of the payment he had received from Cassie. Eliza exactly wasn't a paying client (actually, Michael was pretty sure he had taken her case  _ pro bono _ ), and Michael was still waiting on Rich to pay him.

“I don't know. I've never had to pay bail before…” Michael bit back a groan.

_ Why do I picture giant bales of money every time I hear the word "bail"? _

* * *

**December 26, 2016**

**3:01 PM**

**Red Bank Lake Woods**

 

Michael rushed nearly all over Los Angeles to try and find Christine. She wasn’t at the precinct like he had expected. Instead, the young lawyer had been directed over to the scene of the crime. According to someone he had spoken to, the woman wasn’t even supposed to be there. She had gotten into a fight with the chief of police about working the entire case. Michael really didn't want to be in her way now, but unfortunately, it was a necessary interaction.

“Hey, Michael,” said the detective when Michael finally tracked her down to Red Bank Lake. Well, she was surprisingly passive for someone who just had a heated argument with her boss. “About the trial today…” She sighed. “I want to say it was good, but… Sorry about my testimony. Got to do my job.”

“It’s fine,” Michael told her. “Don’t worry about it.” A lot of people say incriminating stuff of the witness stand that they don’t mean. Michael himself was included in that number.

“You did save Jeremy in the end, though. Well, almost. He still needs that ‘not guilty’ verdict. If only it wasn’t Williams you were facing against.” Michael internally cringed at the thought of having to face that man again.

“Have any idea what he’s planning for tomorrow?” Christine only offered a small shrug to Michael.

“No idea. From what I heard, he might be bringing in another witness.” Michael groaned. Great. Someone else who could probably get Jeremy convicted. And knowing how Williams prepared his witnesses, it didn’t look too good. “My thoughts exactly. No one would even tell me what he was planning. Can you believe that?”

_ Considering how close you are to Jeremy, I believe it. … speaking of him, there is something I wanted to find out. I never got the chance to ask Jeremy in court. Guess I was just too distracted. _

“Christine, can I ask you something?” Michael said to the detective. “About Jeremy.”

“What is it?” Christine replied.

“When you two were together, did he ever tell you why he was afraid of earthquakes?” Christine's face screwed up into concentration. “He never told me, and I don’t think he will now.” In the end, Christine shook her head.

“Jeremy didn’t talk about himself too much, even when we were together.” Michael bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep himself from reacting to that. It was what he had been thinking about. Why was Jeremy so secretive over that fact? “There’s one thing that is clear as a sunny day, though. His fear of earthquakes… why he hates crime so much… why he’s a lawyer… it all started with  _ that _ incident.” Michael didn’t need to be told twice about what incident she was talking about.

“DL-6?” Christine nodded.

“Yep. That’s the one. Even after fifteen years… I think the whole incident still haunts him. You can see the pain in his eyes around this time of year.”

_ I know what you mean…  _ There was one more thing Michael wanted to talk to Christine about.

“I wanted to talk to you about Elizabeth Schuyler…”

_ Wow, I haven't referred to Eliza by her full name in a while. It feels like yesterday that I was defending her against the crime of killing her sister… _

“What about her?” Michael explained the situation back at the detention center to Christine. “She’s not out on bail yet?! That's weird. I told them to let her go as soon as the report was written up.” Christine sighed. “I don’t know what would have happened in court today if it wasn’t for her. I shed a few tears watching her get dragged out. I even saw Jeremy’s lip trembling.”

“Really?!” Christine nodded.

“He was really grateful for what she did.” She rocked back onto her heels. “He even told me that he was going to pay the whole amount.”

“A-Amount?”

“Yeah. He’s posting her bail.” Michael stared at her. He was doing what now? “I had the same reaction. Told you he was grateful. Come on, let’s go get her out.” The two walked over to the parking lot. Michael would have to admit, he was relieved that Eliza’s bail wouldn’t be cutting into his budget… or what little there was of it left. He would never admit that t her, though.

_ Hmm... Maybe I can get Jeremy to pay this month's rent, too… _

* * *

**December 26, 2016**

**3:54 PM**

**Red Bank Lake Park**

**Entrance**

 

The look on Eliza’s face when Michael had told her who exactly posted her bail was priceless. He really wished he took a picture of it. Anyway, needing a bit more evidence to have a plausible case for their client, the dynamic duo headed back over to Red Bank Lake. Luck was on their side. There was barely any cops investigating the scene, and their one witness from the trial that day was there.

“You really did it today…” said Jenna once greetings were exchanged.

“I did what exactly?” Michael asked, trying to comprehend what Jenna had just said.

“I’m not complaining. I mean, I realized that being a witness is a huge responsibility.” That really didn’t answer Michael’s question. “I just went up there and started babbling any thing that came to mind.”

“Jenna…” Michael really wanted his question answered.

“So, I’ve decided to make it up to you!” Michael exchanged a look with Eliza.

“What do you mean by that?”

“That SQUIP didn’t want me to say anything about it. But… I have a little information that might help you out.” Information?! “I see we might be able to make a little deal.” Michael didn’t like the sound of that.

“A deal?” Michael repeated. Jenna nodded. “I thought you were supposed to be making it up to us.”

“Yeah but... well… information isn’t cheap. So, what do you say?” Jenna held out her hand. “Do we have a deal or not?”

_ We don't have any other leads so I don't think we have a choice here… _

“Okay,” said Michael. He shook Jenna’s hand. Something about this little deal didn’t feel right. “What do you want? I don't have that much money right now…”

“Are you crazy?” said Jenna. “I’m not that sophisticated, sure, but I’m not trying to rob the poor.” Michael wouldn’t exactly call his economic standing as ‘poor’. “The only fair exchanged for information is information.”

“Information?” Michael exchanged looks with Eliza. Yeah, this definitely didn’t feel good. “On what?”

“Reddy, of course!” Michael wasn’t sure what he was expecting. “I want you to bring me proof of Reddy’s existence or nonexistence!”

“Uh… okay?” Who was he kidding? He was really desperate if he was doing this to get just the smallest bit of information. Jenna raced back into her van. Michael groaned. This day wa giving him a headache.

_ It’s all worth it, in the end, Michael. Just keep telling yourself that. _

“Okay, Michael,” said Eliza, patting her friend’s shoulder. “We better get to hunting. We’re not going anywhere until this roadblock is gone.”

“Yeah…” Michael said with a sigh. “This is going to be a very long day…”

_ Okay... and how exactly do we search for a make-believe monster...? Maybe we can find a monster myth specialist? Maybe they have one at the police department… oh well. Worth a shot. _

* * *

**December 26, 2016**

**4:19 PM**

**Police Department**

**Criminal Affairs**

 

“Please tell me you didn't do something that’s going to hurt Jeremy’s case again?”

“What do you mean by again?!”

Christine Canigula was the one who had caught Michael and Eliza when they entered the precinct. Michael sighed as they sat down in the chairs across from Christine's desk.

“Nevermind,” he said, shaking his head, “How’s the investigation going?”

“It’s…” Christine was hesitating. “It’s not. There’s another meeting coming up… talking about the motive…”

“What motive?” protested Eliza. “He doesn’t have a motive.”

“Well um…” Christine fidgeted around with a pencil that had been laying on her desk. “You know how the victim was Robert Hammond? Because he was the guy who got the only suspect declared innocent in the DL-6 case, the higher-ups think that Jeremy shot him in some sort of revenge against getting his mother’s murderer off.”

_ And Jeremy never talked about his past… I bet they'll drag that out and hit him with it in court tomorrow, too… shit. _

“It doesn’t look too good…” Christine said. Eliza looked over at Michael. Michael stared back. He knew what the look she was giving him meant. And he frankly isn't going to be the one who would ask Christian anything about it. Eliza sighed.

“Detective Canigula, about why we came here,” she said. “What do you now about Reddy?”

“The monster down at Red Bank Lake?” Eliza nodded. “Not what you already don’t. Why?”

“Well… we’re um…” Eliza glanced towards Michael for a bit of help. The lawyer stayed quiet. “We’re looking for him.” Eliza quickly explained the situation to Christine. When her story about the deal with Jenna was finished, Christine slowly nodded.

“I see…” Christine ditched her pencil. “Well… To be honest…” She smirked. “Okay, then. I think I can help you.”

“Wait, you seriously can help us?” said Michael. Christine gave him a short nod. She got up, beckoning Michael and Eliza to follow after her. They did, both of them curious about what exactly was going on in Christine’s head at that moment.

“Why are we out here?” Eliza after about a minute later. Christine had led them out to her car.

“I’m loaning you one of the newest secret weapons for finding evidence!” Christine unlocked the trunk. “Well, one of my secret weapons. I bought it myself. I still have yet to convince the boss.” She opened the trunk. Michael peered over her shoulder. Nestled snugly in there was a metal detector. Michael stared at it.

“Christine, you do realize we’re looking for something alive, right?” Michael asked her.

“You never know.” Christine carefully pulled out the metal detector. “It might have been eating soda cans at one point. There’s enough litter lying around.”

_ Oh well, I suppose it can't hurt.  _ Christine handed the metal detector over Michael.

“Borrow as long as you need it.” Michael ran his thumb of the cold metal. He wasn’t sure that there was much that he was going to find with this. It wasn’t like they were looking for a robot or anything.

* * *

**December 26, 2016**

**4:52 PM**

**Boat Rental Shop**

 

Michael and Eliza made their way back to Red Bank Lake. Their pacing was a slow one as they combed through the park with the metal detector. Michael wasn't sure about what they we're going to get out of it.

“Hey. Michael?” said Eliza after a solid half an hour of silence. “Why is this place called Red Bank anyhow?” Michael slowed down. He handed the metal detector off to Eliza and went down to the lake’s shoreline. “What are you doing?”

“Answering your question,” Michael replied as he rolled up his sleeve. He dug his hand into the sand along the shore. He showed it off to Eliza. The sand was a dull shade of red, almost like clay.

“Wow.” Michael let the sand fall back into the lake. 

“Yup. The bank is literally red, so they named it Red Bank.” Michael stood. “They say that the blood of soldiers that died in a battle during some war stained the sand, but I think that's just for the tourists.” Eliza joined him as he pulled his sleeve back down. The moment she stepped near the lake, the metal detector in Eliza’s hands went off with a subtle beep. The pair exchanged a look.

With the metal detector as their guide, Michael and Eliza followed the beep along the shoreline. The beeping rapidly grew louder and increased in speed as they grew closer and closer to a field of reeds.

_ Whatever it is, it must be in those bushes…  _

Michael got in closer. Something metallic was hiding from sight. He went to pull it out, struggling to do so. Eliza ditched the metal detector a few feet away from the water and went to help. With their combined strength, Michael and Eliza managed to pry the heavy object out of its trap.

“An air tank?” Michael grunted as they pulled it to the shore. The valve on the tank was broken. 

“I thought it was Reddy for a second.” She went and picked up the metal detector again. 

“Okay, Eliza. Why would Reddy be in the bushes?” Michael righted the air tank. “Secondly, why would a metal detector react to a sea monster?!” Eliza only offered him a small shrug. Michael examined the air tank a bit more closely.

_ There's something wrapped around this air tank…  _ Michael pulled at what was caught around the tank. _ It looks like... a string of flags...?  _ There was a series of familiar symbols were stamped along the flags. At the end was a very incriminating name.

“I think I know where this came from.”

* * *

**December 26, 2016**

**5:14 PM**

**Red Bank Lake**

**Public Beach**

 

With Eliza’s help, Michael managed to drag the heavy air tank over to Rich’s stand. There was something different about it compared to yesterday. There was an inflatable Steel Samurai in front of the stand.

“Yo! Eliza! Michael!” shouted Rich when he caught sight of the two. “How'd the trial go?”

“Well, we made it through okay… ish,” said Michael, biting back a groan. Even after a few hours had past, he still wanted to throw a pen at Williams’s smug face. “We got another day, at least. Though, I'm not sure how good our chances are. Especially considering the prosecutor is Eric Williams and a total ass.” Even Rich cringed. “Yeah.”

“I'm willing to bet that he's going to exploit every weakness Prosecutor Heere has in court tomorrow,” added Eliza, equally frustrated with Williams. “Like… the earthquake thing. You saw how he acted yesterday.”

“You mean how Jerry’s afraid of earthquakes?” asked Rich. Eliza nodded.

“You know about it?”

“Yeah. I think anyone who went to our school knew.” Rich sighed. “We had an earthquake drill once. Even though it was fake, Jeremy kinda… I don't know… he just  _ froze _ . He didn't move, he didn't do anything. He just panicked. They had to take him to the nurse. His dad picked him up from school that day.”

“Really?” Rich nodded once again. Michael remembered that day. He had been the one to take Jeremy down to the nurse’s office in the first place.

“I asked him about it one time. Kinda immediately changed the subject. He did it every time someone asked, in fact. Never really understood why.” Michael really wanted to change the subject. “Hey, if it makes you feel any better, how about I come to the trial tomorrow? For moral support?”

“Thanks…” Michael sighed. Well, it was small thing that made the situation better. He glanced over to the inflatable hitting up against the side of the stand. “Hey, Rich. Was that big…” Michael gestured to the inflatable, “… thing up there before?

“That big guy?” Rich looked over to where Michael had been pointing. “I've had that thing for about a month. That kids love it!”

“If you had it for a month, why wasn't it here yesterday?” Rich groaned. 

“The compressor I use to blow it up was busted.” Rich gestured to a machine resting up next to the stand. “That thing. It broke about a week ago, so I sent it in for repairs.”

_ A week ago… so… nineteenth? Yeah. Sounds about right. _

“And here I thought you'd inflated it by yourself,” said Eliza. Michael sometimes appreciated her snark. This was one of those times. It put a thought in Michael's head. The air tank… the flags wrapped around it… Rich’s name written on the flags. The pieces were starting to fall into place.

“That's because he didn't,” said Michael. He tapped the air tank beside him. “Rich, is this air tank yours?” Rich went a shade paler.

“No! Wh-Why would I have something like that?” He wasn't very good at hiding things. Especially after being cross-examined by Michael once before.

“The string of flags around the tank.” Michael held up the flags. “You wrote your name on one of them, Rich. Not that many Goranskis living in Los Angeles.”

“And what are you suggesting?”

“That you used the air tank to blow up that thing over there.” Once again, Michael pointed over to the Steel Samurai. Rich sighed, leaning up against the counter of the stand.

_ Looks like I hit the nail on the head. _

“Yeah, it's mine,” admitted Rich. “I told you the compressor was on the fritz a few days ago, and since I had no other way, I tried to blow up the Samurai with that air tank. It um…” Rich laughed nervously. “It didn't go so well…” Michael and Eliza exchanged looks with one another.

“You think you could be a bit of specific?” Michael asked. The more information they had, the better.

“Come on, Mike. It's embarrassing.” Michael gave him a look.

_ I've seen you at your most embarrassing. It can't be as bad as Christmas during our freshman year of college. _

“Come on,” asked Eliza, leaning up against the countertop. “Pretty please?”

“... Fine. Whatever…” Rich loudly groaned. “I was trying to fill up the Samurai with that tank when the valve burst off. The tank took off like a rocket, taking my Samurai with it. It scared the heck out of me. Sounded almost like a gunshot.” A loud noise… like a gunshot? Michael fished the article in his pocket. He read the date on the top.

“Okay. It's not that embarrassing. I mean, I've done worse.” Now that was a story Michael wanted to hear. “What happened after that?”

“I went out looking for it. Every night after I got off my shift, I would search the lake. I found it about two days ago. Took me forever to finally find it. I was upset that I couldn't find the air tank but… The compressor was fixed. I didn't need to worry ‘bout it.”

_ Two days ago... Hold on. That was the night of the murder! _

“Rich…” Michael said, his tone taking a complete one-eighty. He stuffed the article away.

“Er… s-sorry for not telling you about this, Michael,” stuttered Rich. “I was here in the night of the murder. But I went home before midnight, and the murder took place after that so I really didn't see any reason to tell you.”

_ Well… he didn't seem to know anything yesterday when we asked… great. _

“Well…” Michael said with a sigh as he and Eliza walked away from the stand. He was still dragging the air tank behind him. “There's one mystery solved.” Eliza glanced over at him.

“A mystery?” she asked. Michael nodded.

“Yup. Reddy.” Eliza kept staring at him. “Just come on, I think I have an idea.”

_ Maybe we should go tell her… _

* * *

 

**December 26th, 2016**

**5:25 PM**

**Red Bank Lake Woods**

 

Eliza was not happy about having to drag the air tank to the other side of the lake at Michael’s request. She made that very clear when they got to Jenna’s campsite by nearly knocking it over. Michael called out for Jenna to come a meet them. She seemed pretty excited un spotting the lawyer and the spirit medium.

“You got the scoop on Reddy for me?” said Jenna, bouncing on the balls of her heels.

“Yeah,” said Michael as he righted the air tank. “We even found him.” Jenna squealed with delight. Eliza pulled Michael close to her.

“Michael, what are you doing?” she whispered to him.

“Just trust me on this.” Michael turned back to Jenna, who was grinning like a madman. “Yeah. We found Reddy already. And it’s right here.” Michael gestured to the air tank. Both women stared at him.

“Um… what?” said Jenna, giving Michael a dangerous glare. Well, it was time for an explanation. Hopefully Michael was right about this one.

“There’s a hot dog stand near here. Outside of it is a large, inflatable doll,” he explained to Eliza and Jenna. “About a week ago, an idiot — who happens to be a friend of mine, by the way — tried to fill it. He used this air tank.” Michael tapped the tank. “The valve blew off, and the tank flew into the lake. It made a pretty loud bang when it took off.”

“A… A bang?” It seemed like Jenna was starting to get it.

“The tank, along with the deflated doll, fell into the lake.” Michael pulled out the Reddy article from his pocket. “At the same time, a couple was taking a photograph nearby. This photo actually.”

“So, wait…” said Eliza. Michael could see the gears working in her brain. “Are you saying that Reddy is really just that thing Rich has out front of his stand?” Michael nodded.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Wow…” Jenna sighed. Any ecstasy she had was gone. It was only replaced by disappointment.

“I’m real sorry, Jenna.” He knew the exact feeling of having everything you thought was true destroyed. Though, the circumstances were far from different.

“It’s okay. A promise is a promise. You gave me what I wanted, so I got to give you want you need.” It really didn’t seem fair to Michael at this point. He wasn’t going to complain, though. He needed this to save Jeremy. “Okay, so I overhead the cops saying something about the witness tomorrow while I was down there. They said he’s the caretaker of the boat rental place just up the path.” Jenna pointed the two in the direction of the shop.

That was all they needed. Michael and Eliza were ready to leave. However, Jenna quickly called them back. She gave them a second photo. To Michael’s surprise, Jenna had claimed that it was a second picture that was taken in the night of the murder. it felt useful, even if it was a picture of just the lake.

Michael slid the photo into his pocket as Jenna walked back to her van, readying to pack up and go. He sighed. It was kind of a sad sight to watch. All her dreams had been crushed.

“Poor Jenna…” Eliza muttered as she and Michael left he campsite. Michael pinned some of the blame on Rich, even if the creation of Reddy was accidental.

“The legend still lives on, I guess,” said Michael.

“The legend?” Michael nodded.

“Yup. The legend of Richard Goranski — familiar to all who know him to for any length of time as a troublemaker.”

“... someone needs to whip that man into shape.” Michael felt like he knew someone who could fit the bill.

* * *

 

**December 26, 2016**

**6:34 PM**

**Boat Rental Shop**

 

It took longer to reach the Boat Rental shop that Michael wanted. Well, at least they weren’t logging around the air tank anymore. The shop itself was completely quiet. It seemed to be deserted. Michael knocked upon the door. There was no answer. He knocked on the door again. There was still no answer. After a third time, the quiet still remained.

“I don't think there's anyone here…” muttered Eliza. Michael still wanted to check out the place anyway. It could hold some seriously useful clue. He went to open the door. 

Before Michael could even touch the door, it opened on its own. Standing before them was an old man. Michael thought he looked like a hermit that lived under a bridge.

“Betsy! Ryan!” exclaimed the old man when he saw who was at his doorstep. “Where have the two of you been?! I've been worried sick!” Michael and Eliza exchanged looks with one another. Eliza signed off the universal sign for ‘crazy.’

“Betsy!” Eliza jumped when the old man directed his attention towards her. “Finally made up your mind, haven't you?

“Made up my mind?” Eliza repeated. The old man nodded. “About what?”

“Running the shop once I'm gone.”

“Me? Run this shop?”

“Glad to hear it! You kids make your ol’ man proud.” The old man wasn't really understanding what was going on and who these two were, was he? He ushered (more like pulled to the defense attorney) Michael and Eliza inside of the shop. It looked more like a small, one room apartment rather than a rental shop.

“Polly! The kids are home!” Michael sighed. Finally someone could clear up this misunderstanding up. Or so he thought. There was no one else in the shop but a parrot, who squawked loudly when Michael and Eliza entered.

Michael groaned. This  _ had _ been a very long day. It seemed like it was only going to get longer. There had to be some way of getting this guy’s attention. Michael looked down at the badge pinned to his jacket. Perfect. 

“Sir, can you take a look at this for me?” Michael asked. He took his badge off, showing it to the old man. 

“... that a lawyer’s badge?” Michael had a second of stunned surprise before he started grinning.

“Yes! Yes it is!”

_ I don't believe it! This old guy is the first person to recognize my badge! _

“... I get it.” Michael stared at the old man. He got what? “I got you figured out now. You're not my kids at all, are you?” Michael sighed. Finally, this old guy seemed to be getting it.

“No, we're not,” said Eliza. “We’re investigating a murder that took place here the other night. On Christmas Eve. We were wondering if you could help us out.”

“...A lawyer huh?”

“Please?” Michael couldn’t help but be glad that Eliza was persuasive. And not because she was a woman, either.

“Alright. I’ll help. But. On one condition.” Things never went without a price around here did they? It was starting to get annoying. “When this case is over and done… you’ll run the shop!”

“Okay. Fine. Whoever,” said Michael. He wasn’t like he really was going to keep that promise anyway. Eliza pulled Michael aside.

“Are you really sure about this?” she said in harsh whisper.

“Hey, anything to get this case solved,” Michael said with a shrug. The sooner this case was solved, the better it would be for everyone. Especially his client.

“That’s my boy!” Michael and Eliza turned back to the old man. “You bring a tear to our old man’s eye.” Apparently the revelation about Michael and Eliza’s identities did not last long. “Now what was that you wanted to know?” Before Michael could even ask his first question, the old man turned towards the parrot in the room and started talking to her rather than the two human beings in the room. The parrot squawked in response.

_ Now he's talking to the bird again! How do we get him to talk to us!?  _ Apparently, unlike the lawyer, Eliza knew exactly what she had to do. She stepped up towards the parrot.

“She is amazing parrot,” said Eliza, feigning a fascination with the bird. She took her try at talking to the carrot. “Good morning!” The parrot gave no response. “Um…. hello?” The parrot still ignored her.

“Have you forgot, Betsy?” said the old man. “You gotta call her by her name first!”

“Her name?” The old man nodded before demonstrating. The parrot happily squawked back “hello”.

_ So that parrot’s name is Polly, huh? _ Michael made a mental note of that. It went back and forth for a while, with Eliza conversing with the parrot. It was amusing to watch. Polly just kept echoing back “hello”.

“It's too bad that she can only say hello,” said Michael as he walked up to Eliza and the old man.

“Old Polly can say a lot of things,” laughed the old man roughly. “You just need to know the secret words.”

“Secret words?” asked Eliza, glancing over at Michael. He shrugged. Michael was as confused as she was.

“My memory gotten worse as of late,” explained the old man. “That’s why I just tell everything important to old Polly here.” The old man gently stroked the bird’s feathers.

“Everything important, huh?” Eliza looked over at the bird with a smirk. Her eyes then wandered over to what was in the corner of the room. A safe. “Polly! What’s the code to the safe?”

“... 1228! 1228!” squawks the parrot. Michael hid a laugh behind his hand.

_ With her fiancé and myself being lawyers, you think Eliza wouldn't have such a criminal mind… Well… it’s time to get down to business. _ Michael reached into his pocket. He pulled out the photo Jenna first took — the murder. He showed it to he old man.

“I’ve seen this,” said the old man. Michael’s eyes widened. He was trying to use it as a segway into what he wanted to talk about. He had gotten to the point faster than he had expected..

“Sir, if you know something, you have to tell us. Please!” Michael begged.

“Ryan.” Michael stared at the old man.

“Yeah?”

“Call me Dad, okay?” Michael groaned. Whatever got him to the point faster.

“Okay. Dad. What do you know about this?!” Michael held up the photo again.

“Yup. The other night… out on the lake…” Michael felt the adrenaline of excitement start to pound. He posted the photo once again. “I know all about that! I seen it!”  _ Yes! _

“What?!” exclaimed Eliza.  She was excited as Michael was.  “Come on. You’ve got to tell us what you saw!”

“Well… I suppose…” the old man said with a shrug. “I forgot what the time was, but it was dark outside, so it was probably night… so…”

_ It was after midnight, but okay… _

“Then I heard this ‘bang!’ So I looked outside,” continued the old man. “Then I heard another one. ‘Bang!’ A little while later, this boat comes back. Then a young man walked by my window here. He was muttering something to himself.”

“Did you hear what he said?” asked Eliza.

“Yup…” Michael and Eliza waited in anticipation. “I forgot.” Michael couldn’t believe that. “I’ll remember by court time tomorrow, I promise!”

_ We need to know earlier than that! I don’t want Williams manipulating the witness. _

“You know what? Little Terry was just here…” Michael snapped out of his own thoughts.

“Terry?” he repeated, somewhat confused.

“Yup. That little girl next door. You always used to make her cry, remember? She was wearing this coat and carrying a police badge. Still a tiny thing. She never really grew up, did she?” A tiny girl wearing a coat and a police badge…?

_ He must be talking about Christine… _

“She comes up and tells me that I got to come down to the court tomorrow,” continued the old man.

_ Somehow I don't think we're going to get much useful information out of this guy.  _ Michael sighed. This had been a waste of time.

“Eliza, we should probably get going,” said Michael. It was already dark out at this point. He didn’t want to be out here any longer than he needed to be now. Especially considering that there was a murder at the park just a few days ago.

“Alright,” said Eliza. “Ooo! But I want to ask one more question. Polly?” The bird looked to Eliza. “Have we forgotten something?”

“Don’t forget DL-6!” squawked Polly. Michael froze. What did she just say? “Don’t forget DL-6!”

_ What!? The DL-6 Incident?!  _ Michael turned to talk to the old man about what his parrot had just said. To his surprise, he found the man fast asleep. _ This is getting weird... Who  _ is _ this old guy!? _

Michael and Eliza took their leave right then and there. This rabbit hole was deeper than Michael expected it to be. he had to figure out who exactly that old man was. And what the hell his parrot knew the phrase ‘don’t forget DL-6’.

_... Who could that old man be...? I think I need to do a little more research on this DL-6 Incident... Maybe I should ask Christine. She knows Jeremy pretty well. Maybe he told her something... _

* * *

**December 26, 2016**

**6:55 PM**

**Police Department**

**Criminal Affairs**

 

It was time to get to the bottom of the DL-6 Incident. Michael didn’t want to bother Jeremy about it. And Hamilton didn't know much more. The only way he could think of getting more information on the case was through the police department itself. And he was lucky to find that Christine was still there this late during the day.

“You don’t look too happy,” said the rookie detective when the lawyer and the spirit medium waltzed into the police department. “What’s wrong this time?”

“Nothing's wrong,” said Michael. Had they really come in here that many times with bad news to warrant that greeting? “We just wanted to ask you something.”

“Michael wanted to ask you something.”

“Right. The boat rental shop down at Red Bank Lake. The old man who runs it is gonna be a witness tomorrow, right?” Christine slowly nodded.

“Yeah,” she said. “But how did you find that out? The only person who know that is the SQUIP himself.” Michael didn’t want to talk to Williams about this. At all.

“Do you know who he is?” Eliza asked.

“No,” replied Christine. “No one’s been able to get a straight answer out of him either. I thought he wasn’t viable as a witness… so we called up Jenna instead. As for who he is… that we don’t know either. Guy’s a bit of an odd bird.” Birds… right. What Michael originally wanted to walk about.

“Speaking of birds…” said Michael. “That man has a parrot. And or some reason it knows about…  _ that _ incident.”

“What incident?”

“You know. The DL-6 Incident—”

“What?!” exclaimed Christine. Several heads briefly turned towards her. Michael nodded.

“She repeated it to us when we asked her something. I’m pretty sure that man taught her to say it. I wanna know why.”

“Maybe he’s connected to DL-6 somehow?” suggested Eliza. Michael shrugged. It was a possibility. And these days, more than half of the people Michael knew were somehow involved with that case.

“To be honest…” mused Christine. “I don’t know if he is. He could be, though. I’m not sure. Jeremy forbade us from reading the file as he really shouldn't talk about it.” Jeremy really wanted to keep this under lock and key, didn’t he? Michael didn’t know it was this bad. “So… I can’t really show them to you either, police codes and that… however…” Michael perked up. “Convince me that DL-6 is somehow related to this case… I might consider opening up the file.” Christine winked in Michael’s direction. She gestured towards a door off to the side. “The records room is right through there. You have my permission!”

“Alright!” cheered Eliza. She and Christine exchanged a high-five. “Way to go, Detective Canigula!” Michael was just happy to finally get a full look into this case without having to read over old, probably exaggerated news articles.

_ I guess it's time we faced the past… _

* * *

**December 26, 2016**

**7:03 PM**

**Police Department**

**Records Room**

 

“This place is amazingly—” Eliza sneezed as she and Michael walked deeper into the records room. “... Dusty.”

“Fifteen years of files equals about fifteen years worth of dust,” said Michael as he looked of the case numbers labelled on the boxes of records.

“Then let’s find the DL-6 file quickly.” Michael couldn't agree with her more. She walked on ahead of Michael towards the back of the room.

_ Fifteen years ago... both me and Jeremy were nine years old. We were halfway through the fourth grade when it happened. God, I still can't picture being so young and seeing that. _

“Michael!” called out Eliza’s voice amidst the just and the boxes. “I found the files!”

“Sweet!” Michael raced over to where Eliza was. She had pulled a box off of one of the many shelves. She propped the box open on top of a file cabinet. 

“Alright,” said Michael as Eliza shifted through the files stuffed into the box. “The first thing we need is a summary of the case.”

“Okay…” Eliza pulled out a file. “Got it.” She handed it to him. Michael opened up the file.

“December 28, 2001,” Michael read aloud.  _ So in two days, the case is closed…  _ “The incident took place in an the elevator of the district court…”

“That’s the same court we’re holding trial in now, isn’t it?” Michael nodded. “Ironic.”

“There was a large earthquake at 2:00 PM on that day. Part of the court building collapsed, and all of the lights went out.”

“I remember that. It was this huge earthquake. It even managed to hit us where I live, and that’s pretty far.” Eliza smirked with a sense of nostalgia. “We lost power that night. Peggy was scare of the dark. She wouldn’t stop crying until Angelica distracted her.”

“At the time, three people were trapped in the elevator. It took five hours for them to be found and rescued…” Michael reread that sentence. Wait… “Five hours?!”

“Yikes.”

“There was a lack of oxygen in the elevator, and the survivors were found unconscious by a lawyer working late,” Michael continued. “One of the three in the elevator had been shot in the heart.”

“That was Prosecutor Heere’s mother, right?” Michael nodded again.

_ He said that his mother was shot before his very eyes... So Jeremy was one of the other passengers in that elevator.  _ Michael shut the file.

“Is the victim’s data in there?” Eliza shifted through the files again. She took out another one, exchanging it for the one Michael already had.

“What’s it say?” Eliza asked Michael opened the file.

“Hannah Marie Williams-Heere. Age thirty-five. Defense attorney,” Michael read. She would have been fifty if this incident didn’t happen. “She had lost that day in court. After the trial was done, she got into the elevator with her nine year old son, Jeremy Heere.”

“So he was on the elevator with his mother…” Michael could hear the sympathy in her words.

“From the angle of the bullet and the other evidence, it would not have been a suicide…? The murder weapon — a pistol — was found in the elevator. It had been fired twice…”

_ Where have I heard that before...? Huh...! It sounds just like this current case! What's going on here?  _ Michael shut the file. this was getting strange. There was something else he wanted to know…

“Got the suspect's data in there?” 

“The guy my father got arrested?”

“Yeah.” Once again, Eliza switched files with Michael. He flipped it open. “Okay… so according to this, the suspect was a man named Yanni Yogi. Says he was a clerk in the court, apparently.”

“So… he was the third person in the elevator?” Michael shrugged. “If he was, he could only be the murderer, right?”

“I guess.” He continued reading the file. “... he was found innocent, though. Thanks to his lawyer and our victim, Robert Hammond. The suspect was oxygen deprived… claimed to have brain damage, and a lost all memory of being in there. After he was declared innocent, he vanished.”

“Wonder where he went.” A theory started forming in Michael’s head.

_ He may be closer than we think…  _ Michael shut the file and gave it back to Eliza.

“I guess we know the basics of the DL-6 Incident now.” Michael groaned. “Still don’t know what sort of impact the whole thing had on Jeremy. Its like I said, he refused to talk about it. He just…”

_ He just cried over his mother… _ Eliza carried the three files in her arms. These were what they needs copies of. Michael didn’t know if they were going to come in handy at all. It was better to be safe than sorry. There was nothing left to do but prepare for the trial tomorrow. Michael felt nervous about having to face Williams again in court so soon.

_ I wonder how "Dad" will do testifying in court... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Yogi is the same in this AU. Sorry, I couldn't think of anyone to swap out for him and Hammond. The fifth case is sort of the same problem... except the perp is swapped. And a decent amount of future culprits and victims have been swapped. So I promise this is a rare case.
> 
> If anyone can catch the reference to the AU's Fran, bravo for you.


	17. Rich to the Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When things are not looking too good, a surprise witness leaps from the stands with information that just might save Jeremy's life. Question is, will the information still be helpful once Michael tears away the contradictions? Or will the testimony work in the prosecution's favor?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following chapter contains references to murder (obviously), the SQUIP, near-panic, and some small, angsty fluff at the end.
> 
> This chapter took longer to write than I wanted it to.

**December 27, 2016**

**10:00 AM**

**District Court**

**Courtroom No. 3**

 

Court came back into session far too soon for Michael’s liking. And once again, Williams was controlling the Judge like he was a puppet.

“I have but a simple prediction for today’s trial,” said Prosecutor Eric Williams as he gave his opening statement. “This trial will in three minutes from now! We have no time to waste. I call my decisive witness to the stand!” Michael watched at said witness took the stand.

_ It's that mysterious boat shop owner. _

“Witness. State your profession.” Williams got no answer from the witness. He was fast asleep on the stand. Michael bit down on his tongue to keep himself from snickering. Maybe having trouble with witnesses ran in the family. The witness did not wake up until Williams slammed a hand down on the bench.

“Witness!” said Williams as he did so. The witness woke with a start, nearly falling over. “Your profession!”

“I… er…” said the witness with a yawn. “I am the proprietor of the boat rental at Red Bank Lake…”

“And on the night of the incident, you were in the boat rental shop, correct?” Wait… something was off.

“Er… yup Yup, I was.” It hit Michael. There was one thing Williams forgot to ask about.

“Good. Please give us your—”

“OBJECTION!” Eyes fell on Michael as he shouted out. Williams’s stare could even put fear into the big man upstairs. “Wait. The witness hasn’t even told us his name! Isn't that what you’re supposed to do?”

“In normal cases, yes,” said Williams with an exasperated sigh. “However, there is a reason I did not ask him, Mr. Mell. The witness does not remember anything beyond the last several years. Ergo, he cannot recall his own name.” Michael was silent. 

_ Are you kidding me?! _

“... He can’t recall you, say?” said the Judge. Williams nodded.

“Yes,” said the prosecutor. “The incident in question, however, took place only three days ago. He can testify. I’ve made sure.” Michael didn’t like the sound of that.

“Very well. Let’s hear the testimony then.” Michael leaned up against the bench. This should be interesting.

“Twas the night of the twenty-fourth, just after midnight,” testified the witness. “I was in the shop… where I er… rent boats, as usual. Then I heard a ‘bang’! Ayup. When I looked out the window, I saw a boat just a' floating on the lake. Then I heard another ‘bang’. Just about then the boat comes back to the shore, and a man walks by my window.” Michael quietly groaned. That was just… horrible. Then again, he went up against worse.

“Very well,” said the Judge. “I’d like to begin the cross-examination…”

“OBJECTION!” Michael glared at Williams as he shouted. “There is nothing to question in my witness’s testimony! Ergo, there is no need for a cross-examination! And besides, there is just ten more seconds left before our three minutes are up! Judge!” The judge nearly dropped his gavel at Williams’ finger snap. “Your verdict!”

“No!” said Michael slamming a hand down on the bench. “I have a right to cross-examine the witness! For all we know, he could be hiding something!” The defense attorney looked to the judge, keeping his fingers crossed behind his back.

“... very well…” Michael grinned as the judge took his side. “You may begin.” Williams growled. Nothing was going his way. And his three minute prediction was up. Michael ran the testimony through in his head. He had to pick at it for some sort of possible contradiction.

“You said that a man walked by your window?” Michael asked the witness.

“Yup, by my window. Right outside the window of my little shack.”

“And you could see the man’s face?” If it wasn’t Jeremy, then Michael had a solid lead.

“Well, the fog was pretty darn thick, but he was right there in front of me. I saw him." Michael could see a smirk grow on Williams’ face. A bad feeling grew in his stomach. It only got worse when the witness added onto his testimony with exactly what he saw. “That man was the defendant… he was saying ‘I can’t believe he’s dead’!”

“A-Are you sure?!” said Michael. It couldn’t be. “Are you positive that you heard the defendant say that the victim was dead?!” The witness was quiet. Michael groaned. “Dad!! Answer me!”

“Dead certain, Ryan!” It turned out that the old man would only listen to his ‘son’ instead of the defense attorney. “He said ‘I can’t believe he’s dead’ as he was walking by too.”

“Witness!” said Williams with a snap of his fingers. “Are you sure that the person you saw was Jeremy Heere?” The witness nodded, much to Michael’s dismay.

“It was him! That Heere boy!”

“... This... sounds like decisive evidence indeed,” said the judge. “There is no room for doubt.” Michael glanced over to Jeremy. The prosecutor looked as pale as a ghost. He was probably thinking the exact same thing Michael was.

_ Williams lured me into cross-examining so he could set me up for a fall! _

“M-Michael!” said Eliza in a harsh whisper from beside the defense. “I don’t like the way things are going… everyone here is glaring at us.” Michael swallowed down something rising in his throat.

_ I'd better act quick, or this trial is going to be over! _

“OBJECTION!” Michael shouted, slamming a hand down on the bench. “Your Honor, I proved yesterday that Jeremy Heere was not the one who fired the gun!”

“OBJECTION!” Williams fired back. “Mr. Mell, are you referring to the fingerprints from Mr. Heere’s right hand that were found in the gun, and the photograph showing a man firing with his left…?”

“Exactly… why?” Williams’ smirk made Michael grow uncomfortable.

“It's an easy explanation. The defendant could have wiped his prints away after he fired! You are ignoring the truth of the matter! Everything in this witness’s testimony is true!” Michael didn't say a word. He glanced up towards the judge, hoping for some sort of sign that Williams wasn't right.

_ The judge is lost in thought... what should I do? I'm going to fight back, that's what I’m going to do! _

_ “ _ OBJECTION!” Michael shouted once again. “Y-Your Honor, all we have is the word of the witness! For all we know, he could be lying or—"

“OBJECTION!” interjected Prosecutor Williams. “Mr. Mell, in a court of law, evidence is everything. You have yet to realize this fact. However… if you say that the witness’s testimony is a lie, prove it!” Michael drew a blank.

“I… I can't do anything…” Michael muttered. He had no evidence. There was nothing to disprove the claim. “I…” He looked over to Jeremy. He didn’t look any better. He like he was already dead. Michael shook his head. He refused to think like that… even if… “I don’t know what to do…”

He could hear Eliza muttering something. He couldn’t make out what she was saying.

“Three minutes must have been too high of an expectation for you,” chuckled Williams. He knew what was coming. “Fifteen minutes however, isn’t all that bad. It must be a new record.”

“Enough!” called out the judge. “The witness may leave the stand.” The old man had fallen asleep where he stood. The bailiffs had to take him out. Him leaving meant one thing.

_ No… _

“This court sees no reason to further prolong the trial. Nor is there any need for more time to decide the case against the defendant. This case is extremely clear. I see no room for misinterpretation of the facts.”

_ No… No, no, no! _

“This court finds the defendant, Mr. Jeremy Heere…. Guilty.” There was the bang as the judge brought down his gavel. Michael couldn’t look at Jeremy. He failed. this is what he had been afraid of. He  _ failed.  _ And now, Jeremy was going to...

_ No… no, no, no, no! _

“No!” Michael stared down at the bench as he spoke. It had come out louder than he had wanted, but Michael really didn’t care at his point. His nails had left visible marks in the wood. Jeremy was right. He was ust a rookie, there would have been no way he could have done this. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Michael…” Eliza. She was trying, he would give her that.

“I’m sorry…” The judge hit his gavel to hush the outburst from the defense.

“The accused will surrender to the court immediately, to be held pending for a trial at a higher court within a month from today's date. That is all. The court is―!” Michael heard the rapid thumping of footsteps. The judge couldn’t declare that court was adjourned. 

“W-Wait!” Michael picked his head up. “Wait a minute!” Eliza pushed Michael down as someone leapt from the gallery. There was a thud as something landed on the courtroom floor. Michael looked up. Rich was standing in the middle of the courtroom, having jumped from the gallery’s stands.

“Rich?!” Michael exclaimed. Now what the hell was going on? “What are you doing?”

“Michael, shush!” Rich turned to the judge. “Your Honor, you gotta listen to me! I… I was there! That night in the park! The night of the murder! I…” Rich looked to the defense and the defendant before looking back at the judge. “I wasn’t sure about it until I head the old man’s testimony but… the gunshot. I heard it too!”

“You WHAT?!” Chaos erupted in the courtroom.

“O-OBJECTION!” shouted out Williams, his voice cutting above the noise of the gallery members. “Wh-What is the meaning of this?! The verdict has already been handed down! I call for the adjournment of this trial!” The judge was quiet. He slammed down his gavel several times, silencing the court.

“So…” he looked down at Rich. “You says that you heard a gunshot?”

“Yeah,” said RIch with a nod. “A gunshot in the middle of the night. I heard the old man’s testimony and I realized something. What he said was different from what I remember!” There was a brief din of chatter in the court. Michael had himself fixated on Rich. Just what was he thinking? Was it possible that he could get the judge to overturn his verdict? Rich shared a knowing glance with the defense. “I will not let you sit here and call my friend a murderer!” Jeremy stared at Rich, his face as blank as Michael’s. “It’s not right! I want to testify! Let me testify!”

There was silence in the courtroom as the judge contemplated Rich’s request. Michael kept his fingers crossed. Was this possibly going to work? It had to work, right? Michael needs this. Rich’s testimony could possibly turn that ‘guilty’ into a ‘not guilty’.

“Well,” said the judge after a solid minute. “This is the first time something has happened like this in my court. I’m not quite sure how to proceed…” 

“Judge!” shouted Williams, slamming a hand against the wall of the gallery stands. “You have already giving your decision! The trial is over!”

“No!” Michael brought his hands down on the bench. “Your Honor, if there’s another witness, we have to let him speak!”

_ Even if it is Rich… and last time I cross-examined him his testimony was full of more holes than Swiss cheese… still. Things can’t get any worse! _

“It’s a waste of time,” snapped Williams. The stare between him and Michael could kill a man. “The verdict cannot be overturned!” The judge fell silent once again. Michael could cut the tension with a knife if he wanted to. The judge had to listen to Rich. He had to listen to Michael. This was the only way for justice to be done.

“... In all court proceedings, it is our duty to prevent an inaccurate verdict,” said the judge. “In order to make sure no mistake has been made, every witness must be heard!”

_ Yes! _

“Wh-What?!” shouted Williams. Michael guessed that he wasn’t used to having things not go his way.

“I withdraw my previous verdict of guilty!” There was a giddy victory giggle from Eliza. They are getting another chance. “Mr. Williams! I order you to call this new witness to testify! Now!”

“What?!”

_ And in the courtroom they say, His Honor grew a pair that day. _

“The court will adjourn for a five minute recess. After that, we will hear this new witness. Court is adjourned!” The judge struck his gavel. It might not have been a not guilty verdict, but it was better than anything. They had one last shot to save Jeremy’s life.

* * *

 

**December 27, 2016**

**10:28 AM**

**District Court**

**Defendant Lobby No. 2**

 

Adrenaline had Michael’s heart pounding as the defense and the defendant returned to the defendant’s lobby. He sat down immediately, not realizing how bad his legs had been shaking just from that one word back in the courtroom. Guilty. Jeremy sat down next to Michael, who looked up at his client. Jeremy Heere looked as white as a sheet.

“Hey…” said Michael. “Sorry about keeping you on the edge of your seat the entire time, Jer.”

“It..” Jeremy took a shaky breath. “It could have been worse….”

_ Yeah right, Jeremy. You're sweating bullets!  _ Michael leaned back against the sofa.

“I just wonder what Rich plans to say in there.” The defense sighed. “Either way, I could fucking kiss him. He saved our asses. He saved my ass. He’s saving your ass.”

“Mell. Please. Never say that again.”

“Okay.” 

“So…” Eliza took up a place in on the arm of the sofa. “Rich was at the lake that night, right?” 

“Yeah,” Michael sad with a nod. “He found his Steel Samurai balloon that night. And he heard the gunshot…”

“But… didn’t he say that he left lake before midnight? I‘m confused. If he left before the murder… how did he hear the gunshot? He would have been long gone by then.” Michael hummed. That was the question to be asking. Unless Rich stayed longer than he thought…. 

“I don’t know. Hey, Jeremy what do you…” Michael looked over at the prosecutor next to him. He was staring at the floor. “Hey. Jeremy?” Jeremy was still quiet. Michael waved a hand in front of his face.

“...” Michael shook his shoulder. Jeremy blinked once. It took Michael shaking him another time to get him out of that trance. Jeremy looked up at Michael. “... did you say something?”

“Yeah. A lot of things, actually.” Jeremy just gave a small hum as a response. “Hey, is something wrong? You seem kinda out of it.”

“It…” Jeremy grabbed a the forearm of his jacket. “I-It’s nothing…”  _ Nothing my ass. Something’s wrong. Why won’t you tell me what it is? _

“Um… Prosecutor Heere?” Jeremy's eyes drifted up to Eliza as she spoke to him. “I wanted to know something… Something that’s been bothering me for awhile now… why were your fingerprints on the murder weapon?”

“Oh…” Jeremy sighed. He seemed fine with that question. “When he… th-the victim… fell into the lake… I-I-I just… went into a daze, I guess. I didn't understand what just happened. I wasn’t thinking straight…” Jeremy buried his hands into his hair. “I saw the pistol lying on the floor… I picked it up… And… A-And…” Jeremy shook his head. It seemed like even thinking about the murder was too painful for him.

“I… I see…” Eliza muttered. Michael put a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder in an effort to calm him own. There was a few moments that they stayed like that until the end of the recess. The bailiff called them into the courtroom. The trio filed out of the defendant’s lobby, quietly walking towards the courtroom. Jeremy grabbed Michael’s shoulder.

“Mell.”

“Yeah?” Jeremy seemed a bit more stable than he was earlier.

“... this might be our chance.”

“Um…” Michael glanced at Eliza. She only offered a shrug. “Our chance? Our chance for what?”

“Uncle Eric only runs perfect trials. Perfectly prepared witnesses, perfectly complete evidence…. it’s the secret to his success.” Michael didn’t understand what Jeremy was trying to tell him. “This is the first time he’s ever had to deal with something unexpected. He has no choice but to let someone he’s never talked to before testify to the court! And that someone is Richard Goranski!”

“Uh, Jeremy, what are you getting at here?” Jeremy groaned.

“It's likely that his testimony will be full of holes, Mell!” Full of holes… That's how Rich’s testimonies usually went. Eliza let out a little gasp.

“He’s right, Michael!” she said. The pieces started to fall into place. Williams didn’t have a perfect witness this time. He had Rich. “There won't be a ten minute trial this time. We got to milk this one for all it’s worth!”

“Hey, it was fifteen!” said Michael as they walked up to the courtroom doors. “Fifteen!”

* * *

 

**December 27, 2016**

**10:35 AM**

**District Court**

**Courtroom No. 3**

 

The trial fell back into session. Michael didn’t feel any more comfortable than he did before with Rich taking the stand. He seemed too excited about testifying. Then again, he was their only chance to overturn the guilty verdict. 

_ Please, Rich, don't mess this one up! I hate to admit it, but you're our last chance! Williams didn't even have time to prep his witness. I just hope Jeremy is right about this being our big break…  _ Rich cleared his throat before he started his testimony.

“Alright, so that night I was out in a boat of my own on the lake,” said Rich to the court. “I was looking for something that I had lost. I had found it, so I quietly slipped the boat back to the rental shop. But… just as I was about to leave, I heard this loud BANG! I looked out over the like, but there wasn't a boat out there at all. I thought it was just my imagination, so I went home.”

“Hmm… That was an unusually vague testimony, even for this court,” said the judge. Michael thought that was a good thing. It meant that he could pull it apart. It meant that he would get something good out of it. Or at least, that’s what he was hoping for. He swallowed down something in his throat.

“Michael, is something wrong?” Eliza whispered to him.

”This is Rich! I know you weren’t here the last time I cross-examined him, but you've met him!” Michael replied in a harsh whisper. “I have no idea what he’s going to say if I press him. … I’m a little scared.”

“Well, we’ve already gotten a guilty verdict. Things can’t get much worse. Can they?” Michael gave Eliza a look. She sighed. “We have to choice but to go forward.”

“Okay…” She was right. How could things get any worse than they already were? “Rich, you said that you didn’t notice the boat. Are you saying that there wasn’t a boat on the lake?” Chatter erupted into the courtroom. Michael couldn’t blame them for the commotion. The judge called for order.

“Everyone just calm down, okay?” said Rich once he could be heard by the court again. “I-It was pretty foggy that night. I’m not really sure if there was a boat out there or not.”

_ Oh, okay, no problem. That's just the MOST IMPORTANT PART of the case!  _ Michael groaned. Still, he continued. He didn’t have much of a choice.

“You claim to have only heard a single bang,” said Michael. “Correct?”

“Yeah.” Michael looked down at his record. Something was off about Rich’s testimony. There was something important that contradicted the current evidence.

“Rich, hold up a second.” Michael looked down at his evidence. “You said that you only heard one bang. Are you certain?”

“I’m pretty sure I just said that.”

“But Ms. Jenna Rolan testified yesterday that she hear only two bangs! The old man just now said the same thing! These two witnesses claim to have heart two shots! Yet, you only heard one!” Rich gave the defense a blank look. “Were you even paying attention to the trial?” His face showed guilt. This is what Michael was afraid of.

“To tell you the truth… I’m not sure.”

“N-Not sure?! How are you not sure?!”  _ It’s a fucking gunshot! _

“Yeah … well…” Rich let his gaze drift to the floor. “I uh…. I might have missed that other gunshot. I had my headphones on, listening to the radio. You know how that is, right?” There were shouts from the gallery. The judge slammed down his gavel.

“Order! Order! And stop that booing!” said the judge. Rich was causing a huge amount of chaos right now. “Mr. Goranski! You were listening to a radio on earphones?” Rich nodded.

“Yeah,” he answered. “What of it? I don’t get what the big deal is. Everybody listens to the radio.” Michael groaned. At least this wasn’t as bad as he expected. However, there was still nothing that could overturn that guilty verdict.

“This is a waste of time,” hissed out Prosecutor Williams. “I don't accept this witness, or his shoddy testimony.”

“Hmm… well, Mr. Mell?” said the judge, taking in Williams’ comment. “Should we continue with the testimony?” Michael nodded. He had to find something in Rich’s testimony. They would be here all night if they had to. Michael needed to overturn the guilty verdict. The judge allowed Rich to continue his testimony.

_ I wouldn't be doing this if there were any other way out, believe me. _

“You know, it’s pretty lonely being alone Christmas Eve,” said Rich, recounting those events to include his radio at the judge's request. “So, I was listening to an all-access radio. It was pretty loud, too. But! But. I am sure that I heard the gunshot! I know I heard it! I remember exactly what the DJ was saying when I heard it, too.”

“You were listening to your radio…” said the judge once Rich had finished testifying, “... at a high volume?!”

“Yeah?” Rich didn’t seem to get what was going on. “Can a man listen to his radio at whatever volume he wants to? This is a free country.”

_ I truly believe Rich has no idea what the problem is. _

“Judge,” said Williams, snapping his fingers. “Can you believe a word of what this witness is saying? What he heard was most likely nothing more than a drumbeat from the radio!”

“True enough. It is difficult to believe his testimony…” No. They had to believe it .

“OBJECTION!” Michael shouted. They needed to believe. “The witness said that he remembered exactly what the DJ had said when the gunshot was fired!”

“Excuse me? ‘Dee-jay’...?” Michael groaned. There wasn’t time for this.

“An announcer…. the guy who says things on the radio. Anyway!” He continued on. He had to bluff his way out of this. “What that means is that when the witness heard the gunshot, there was no music playing. The DJ only talks in-between songs!” And a little bit during the end of them, but Michael really didn’t want to bring up that fact to the court. “He could only have hear the gunshot from the lake! Let me cross-examine this witness, Your Honor!”

“V-very well, Mr. Mell.” the judge seemed surprised at Michael’s sudden surge of confidence and determination.

_ I can't believe I'm continuing this charade…  _ There was one thing Michael needed to know. It was the sole thing that could possibly turn the entire case around.

“Rich,” said Michael to the man on the witness stand. “Do you remember what the DJ said?”

“OBJECTION!” Michael groaned as Williams raised an objection. “Mr. Mell, cease with these pointless questions. What good could knowing what a radio DJ said do for us?”

“Mr. Williams does have a point.”

“We should care!” Michael protested. There was something in that testimony… one contradiction that could save Jeremy Heere. “H-How do we know it’s not important if we don't ask him?” The judge complied with Michael’s reasoning. Rich was allowed to answer the question.

“If I remember right, she said ‘hey! It’s almost Christmas!’,” testified Rich further. “Then, there was the gunshot.” That’s what she said? Wait a minute.

“HOLD IT!” Michael shouted. “A-Are you sure?”

“Sure as sure can be.” Michael grinned. There was what he was looking so hard for.

“Your Honor, that statement is a clear contradiction!” There was an eruption of voices in the courtroom gallery. They hadn’t pieced it together.

“What does this mean?” asked the judge once calm returned to the courtroom. “The two prior witnesses heard gunshots after midnight. However, this witness says that he heard a gunshot before midnight…”

“The answer is simple,” Williams jumped in before the defense could explain his reasoning. “The current witness is clearly mistaken. Just look at him! He is suspicious looking!”

_ Is that because part of his hair is dyed…? That’s a stereotype I’d expect you to believe, honestly. _

“Rich isn’t mistaken Your Honor!” Michael argued. “He heard the gunshot before midnight!” Rich was a lot of things. And yes, a liar was one of them. However, he was a fiercely loyal friend. There was no way he would lie in this situation.

“Intriguing…” said William with a dark snicker. “I assume that you have evidence for this wild claim?” Michael bit down on his tongue. There had to be some sort of evidence that would help prove Rich’s and Michael’s claim. He stared down at the ammo he had. An article on a fake monster... handful of photos… wait, photos? Michael looked at the timestamps on the back of the photographic evidence he had. His proof stood out before him. The timestamps. He picked up the photo Jenna had given him yesterday.

“Take a look at this.” Michael held up the photo. “This was taken by our witness, Jenna Rolan with her automatic camera.” He flipped the photo around to show the court what he had seen. “The timestamp. It reads ‘December 24, 11:50 PM. This is the real issue here! It’s why this photograph even exists!”

“What do you mean?”

“Your Honor… Members of the court… if you recall, this photograph was taken by an automatic camera. It was set to go off in response to loud noises. And at 11:50 PM this photograph was taken! In other words….” Michael smirked. This was what he needed. “When Rich heard hat gunshot it was most definitely Christmas Eve!”

“Indeed, it would seem that is the case!” said the judge as Michael returned the photo to his court record. “Then... where does that leave us? Ms. Rolan testified that she heard the gunshots after midnight. Are you claiming she was mistaken?” Michael shook his head.

“Not at all. It fact, that camera also was set off fifteen minutes after midnight. That night… there were two sets of gunshots with a twenty-five minute time frame separating them!”

“OBJECTION!” And just when victory as s freaking close. “That camera was set to respond to loud noises! There is no proof that the loud noise that set off the camera was a gunshot! The witness could have triggered the camera by sneezing for all we know!” Michael glared at Williams. He was making this harder than it needed to be.

“Well, Mr. Mell?” Michael glanced up at the judge. “There’s no turning back now. Can you prove that the loud noise was indeed a gunshot?” Michael bit back a groan. He focused on the evidence. Photos weren’t going help this time around. There had to be something. The loud noise was of course a gunshot. Michael looked at the report on the pistol used in the murder. The bullet recovered from the victim’s heart definitely came from it. It had Jeremy’s prints on it. The weapon had been fired three times…. wait, what? Michael took a look at the report again. He might have found his ticket.

“The evidence you’re looking for would be the murder weapon.” Suspicious looks came from all around the court. Michael sighed. “Something about the pistol is bothering me. Both of the witnesses who testified yesterday said what they heard  _ two  _ gunshots. Yet, the murder weapons was fired  _ three _ times. When was the third shot fired? Only now does it make sense. I claim that the missing third shot was the one Rich heard just before midnight!” The judge compensated Michael’s claim.

“Hmm…. that would make sense of the evidence we’ve been so far… However.. this leaves me wondering exactly what happened on the lake that night.”

“Exactly,” said Williams. “If the defense’s claim is true, then there were two sets of gunshots — each separated by twenty five minutes. The question that the court should be asking…” Williams focused in on Michael like he was going to shoot him himself. “... is why?” Michael drew a blank. Why were the gunshots fired in two sets…?

_ Uh oh, I'd better think of something quick! ... Wait a second...! Gunshots separated by twenty-five minutes...?  _ The thought had seemed faintly familiar. Only now did Michael figure out why.

“Oh my God!”

“Michael?” said Eliza, wincing at the fact that Michael had just shouted in her ear. “I-Is something wrong.”

“I have it…. I figured it out!” Eliza just stared at him. “Do you remember the case with the Iron Maiden?” Eliza slowly nodded. “The murder in this case had the same idea as the murderer in that one!”

“What are you talking about?” She hadn’t seen it yet.

“Eliza,” Michael put his hands on her shoulders, “if we don’t figure this out now, we’ll never overturn that guilty verdict! I’ve got an idea. I’m gonna run with it.”

“Are you sure that’s safe?”

“Safe?” Michael nearly laughed. “We’ve already gotten a guilty verdict!” He shook her shoulders. “We have nothing to lose!” Eliza took his hands off of her. She didn’t look the bit amused.

“Please don’t shake me like that.” Michael sighed.

“Just let me know if I say anything that sounds a bit fishy, okay?” Eliza nodded. It was time to finish this trial and get that guilty change to a not guilty.

“Your Honor!”

“Y-Yes, Mr. Mell?”

“The testimony given by our current witness has cleared up this entire case!” Once again, all Michael received were blank stares. He sighed. Oh well. It looks like this would need more explaining.

“So you finally realized the truth?” said Williams before Michael could clarify. What was with this guy and interrupting? “There can be no other murder here than… well, Jeremy Heere.” Michael heard a squeak from the defendant. He slammed a hand on the bench.

“Wrong. Yes, a man was shot that night, but it wasn’t Mr. Heere who did the shooting!” Williams chuckled, wagging a finger in Michael’s direction.

“Listen well, rookie. Take a deep breath and consider the facts. At the time of the murder, only one boat  was on the lake. This was shown by the witness’s photograph. The defendant, Mr. Heere, and the victim, Robert Hammond were on that boat. Then there was a gunshot fired from the boat. Robert Hammond fell into the lake. The distance of said shooting was one meter. If you try to imply that Hammond’s death was suicide one more time…”

“Who ever said that I was?” It was Michael’s turn to laugh. “All of your evidence pointing to Jeremy Heere being the murderer rest on one assumption — that the victim was shot fifteen minutes after midnight.”

“What do you mean by that, Mr. Mell?” asked the judge. “We have photographic evidence of the time of the shooting.”

“You’re forgetting that Rich heard a gunshot before that twenty-five minutes before that! The defense would like th claim that 11:50 PM is the true time of Robert Hammond’s death, not 12:15 AM!”

_ That's the only way that Jeremy could be innocent!  _ There was silence in the courtroom.  _ Shit, id I say something wrong? I know I’m right. I have to be. _

“... Mr. Mell, are you quite mad?” said the prosecutor after a minute. “If your claim is true then explain who’s in the boat with Mr. Heere in the photographs!” Michael would think of only one possible explanation.

“Isn’t that obvious? It’s Mr. Heere and the murderer.” Michael heard a screech from the defendant. Well, that was what the thought of being in a boat alone with a murder could do to someone. “After the murderer killed Robert Hammond, he assumed the guise of his victim and met with Mr. Heere!”

“Wh… What?!” The judge was in just as much disbelief as Jeremy sounded to be.  “Are you serious?!”

“Yes.” Michael nodded. He was sure that this is how it played out. It made sense with the evidence. It was hard to not let his own belief get in the way of the truth it worked out that his belief was the truth. “I have a theory. hat night, Robert Hammond called Jeremy Heere to the lake for an undisclosed reason.” Michael glanced over at Jeremy. The defendant wouldn’t meet his attorney’s gaze. “Now, Mr. Heere doesn’t remember Hammond very well. After all, it has been about fifteen years since they last saw each other. That’s why he didn’t suspect anything when the murderer took Hammond’s place!”

“... I’m not sure what to make of al this.”

“It’s ludicrous!” The judge ignored the prosecution’s accusation. 

“Mr. Mell, if this is true, then tell us the name of the murderer!” Here was an unforeseen problem.

“Well… uh… you see, Your Honor…” said Michael with a nervous laugh. “That’s going to be difficult, seeing as the murderer never told us his name.” Michael could sworn he saw the prosecution wince. That was strange. Michael brushed it off. “The defense would like to claim that the murderer of Robert Hammond is actually the caretaker of the boat shop! At 11:50, he was the one who killed Robert Hammond!”

“Th-The caretaker of the boat shop?!” exclaimed the judge. Michael nodded. He was sure about this. “Wh-Where did he do this?! there weren’t any boats on the lake then!”

“Maybe the real scene of the crime wasn’t the boat?” Wait, that actually made sense. “The defense would like to add to their claim! Er… my claim! The real crime scene was the boat shop where the old man lives!”

“OBJECTION!” snapped Williams. “Where’s your evidence!?”

“Have you already forgotten your witness’s testimony?! The night he was out on the lake in the boat, he was searching for something. When he found it, he returned the boat to the dock. Just as he begins heading for home, he hears a gunshot. A gunshot, Your Honor! He heard it despite the fact that he as wearing headphones! That can only mean that the gunshot was close by. And where would he be if he just returned the boat?”

“The boat shop… Mr. Mell!” said the judge. “What happened on that night on Red Bank Lake?!” That was something Michael didn’t have the answer for. He wasn’t certain as to what had happened. He just had a theory that he was pulling out of his ass. “Please tell the court from the beginning!”

“Uh… yes, Your Honor.”

“Michael, are you sure about this?” Eliza said in a harsh whisper.”

“Um… not entirely?” Michael whispered back. “But if I think I start at the beginning… something will make sense eventually, right?”  He heard Eliza mutter something under her breath. Surprisingly, it made Michael relax. It reminded him of Angelica during his first trial. Even if Eliza couldn't channel his former mentor, it was like she was there.

“On the night of December 24th, the caretaker of the boat shop called Robert Hammond to shop around 11:50,” said Michael, piecing together what the court had uncovered so far during the trial. “It was around that time that Rich Goranski had returned to the dock. Then, a gunshot was fired. This was the shot that killed Hammond. Then, the caretaker put on Hammond’s coat and became our victim. He then got in the boat with Mr. Heere and went out into the middle of the lake… the murderer then shot the pistol twice. Both gunshots missed the defendant, obviously. I don’t think he meant to hit anyone actually…”

“Wait a minute…” Michael looked up at the judge.

“What is it?”

“Why would he shoot twice if he didn’t mean to hit anyone?” Michael faltered.

“Uh…”

_ Details! Details! Crap! Why would he shoot twice? I mean, I doubt it was to kill Jeremy. He obviously missed. And if he did try, it would have created a pretty loud noise and… attract… someone’s attention… I’m an idiot. _

“I think he shot twice in order to create a witness.” 

“Create a witness?” Michael raised his fingers in the form of a gun. 

“The murderer lifted his pistol and fired one shot.” He mimed firing. “This ensures that anyone who heard the shot would look at the lake, which is exactly what happened in the case of Jenna Rolan. The murderer waited for a bit before firing again.” Once again, Michael mimed firing his fingers before lowering his hand. “The murderer then jumped from the boat himself, leaving the murder weapon behind.”

“I see! To someone looking from the edge of the lake... It would appear that one of the men on the boat had shot the other!” Michael nodded. With each passing minute, his case was growing stronger.

“The murderer had no idea about the automatic camera, which is why he shot twice. Once you realize that, everything starts to fall into place! The caretaker swam back his shop, put the coat back on the body and dumped Hammond into the lake!” Michael smirked. “This is what transpired that night on Red Bank Lake, Your Honor.”

There was silence in the court. The tension slowly began to build. Michael could hear Williams growling. He was pissed off about something. Wait… did Michael actually defeat him? Had he actually done it?!

“Bailiff!” called the judge. “Bring out the witness from before! Quickly!” The bailiff gave the judge a nod before rushing out of the courtroom. Michael could feel victory just within arms reach.

“ While we are waiting for the caretaker…” continued the judge, “I would like to ask the defendant, Jeremy Heere, a few questions. Mr. Heere. Please take the stand." Jeremy was shaking as he moved from the defendant’s chair to the witness stand. “Mr. Heere… You heard what the defense has said?”

“... yes,” said Jeremy. His voice was quieter than usual.

“Well? Why did you go to the lake that night.” Jeremy swallowed something down. He glanced over at his defense attorney. He looked like he had already been sentenced to death.

“What Mr. Mell has said is mostly accurate. Surprisingly so, actually,” answered Jeremy after a minute long pause. He nodded. “Yes… about a week prior to the incident, I received a letter signed by Robert Hammond. He asked me to meet him at the boat shop by Red Bank Lake at midnight on Christmas Eve. He said that he wanted to discuss…” Jeremy trailed off, biting down on his lip.

“Mr. Heere. What did the victim wish to discuss with you?” Williams glared at his nephew from his place at the prosecutor’s bench.

“I…” Jeremy stared at the floor. “I plead the fifth.” Michael stared at Jeremy.

_ Why are you pleading the fifth? It can't be that bad… can it? … Jeremy Heere… just what are you hiding from me?  _ Before the line of questioning could continue, the bailiff burst back into the courtroom.

“Your Honor! Sir!”

“Bailiff!” said the judge, sounding furious. “We are conducting a trial here, I ask that you remain quiet—"

“But sir! The witness has disappeared! And he isn't at the boat shop either!”

“What!?” The courtroom erupted into a chaos. Disappeared?! How does an old man who can barely take two steps without passing out just up and disappear?!

The judge ordered the bailiff to contact the police on the matter immediately. The din soon quieted down enough for Michael to be able to hear the judge. Williams looked none too pleased about this turn of events.

“It goes without saying that I cannot declare a verdict under these circumstances.” That lifted Michael’s hope. “I will extend the trial until tomorrow, the final day allowed. I request that the police department utilize all its forces to find that witness! Am I understood?” Williams was quiet. There seemed to be nothing but burning rage inside of him. In the end, he nodded.

“One more thing,” said the judge before dismissing the court. “Just who is that boat shop caretaker? I think his identity has become very important to this trial. I want him, and I want to know who he is.” Once again, Williams didn't speak a word. “... Very well. Court is adjourned!”

As soon as the gavel came down, Michael and Eliza raced into the defendant’s lobby.

* * *

 

**December 27, 2016**

**1:22 PM**

**District Court**

**Defendant Lobby No. 2**

 

The doors to the defendant’s lobby burst open as Michael and Eliza made it inside. Jeremy had taken up a place on the sofa. He didn't move when the two came in.

“We did it…” said Eliza, clapping a hand on Michael’s shoulder, “you did it!”

“Yeah... Well, at least we got out from under that guilty verdict…”

“We can thank Rich for that. Even the SQUIP didn't know what to do! He really helped us out in there.”

“Sure.” Michael leaned up against the wall. “Once I sifted through his ‘unique’ testimony. Still… he did save us.” Michael groaned before flopping down next to Jeremy. “I wish our cases weren't always so down to the wire.”

“I know what you mean.” Michael looked over at the man sitting next to him. Jeremy had been unusually silent. “Jeremy.” He didn't say anything. He only looked like he was under a great deal of physical pain.

“Umm… Prosecutor Heere?” Eliza waved a hand in his face. They didn't get a reaction until Michael poked his shoulder. Jeremy blinked, snapping out of yet another trance. That had to be the second time today alone that had happened.

“D-Did you say something?” said Jeremy, seemingly still in a daze.

“Hey, don't look so upset. It looks like you're going to get acquitted after all. Maybe you could smile a little?” Jeremy sighed, sinking further into the couch.

“... I'm sorry… but…” He shook his head. “It's not over for me yet.”

“Jeremy?” Michael said. “What are you talking about?” If it wasn't for the witness disappearing, then they would have gotten their not guilty verdict. Michael trusted that the police would find him. There was nothing left to worry about.

“Mell… there's something that I never told you about… Something that has been bothering me for years now…”

“Jeremy?” Jeremy took in a shaking breath.

“And there’s so little time left…” Jeremy’s pained expression only grew more intense. “I want to tell you… but….” He shook his head. “I'm not sure.” Michael put a hand on his shoulder.

“You can tell me anything, you know that Jeremy.” It was just like how it used to be between them. Even if it was just for that moment. 

“... For nearly fifteen years now, I've had a recurring nightmare of a crime… a crime that I… I committed. It's dark… there's a scream… and then… a g… gunshot.” Jeremy’s voice cracked.

“A gunshot?” Michael gripped Jeremy’s shoulder.

“I now know its it's not a dream… its… it's a memory.” Michael’s heart sank at Jeremy’s next words. “It's a memory of a murder.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I saw the pistol lying on the floor… I picked it up… And… A-And…”
> 
> I'll leave that all to your imaginations about what Jeremy was REALLY thinking about. ; )


	18. The DL-6 Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dark incident from the past finally comes to light. Everyone believes Jeremy to be guilty, even Jeremy himself. Everyone but Michael, who is desperate to prove his best friend innocent. He goes deeper down the rabbit hole to try and find the truth. If only there wasn't one person standing in his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following chapter contains attempted strangulation, and assault. And a moment before murder.
> 
> Is is possible to make the SQUIP even worse? Find out at the end of the chapter!

**December 27, 2016**

**2:11 PM**

**Mell & Co. Law Offices**

 

The drive back to Mell & Co. was done in silence. Neither Eliza or Michael said a word until the door was safely shut behind them.

“Michael…” said Eliza, her voice low as Michael sat down at his desk. “What was Prosecutor Heere talking about?” Those words echoed in Michael’s mind.

_ “I now know its it's not a dream… its… it's a memory. It's a memory of a murder.” _

“... Do you really think that Prosecutor Heere…?”

“No,” Michael said immediately, not even allowing Eliza to finish her thought. “Not Jeremy Heere. Some painful memory has been bothering him recently… but he would never take someone’s life!” Eliza put her hand on his shoulder.

“Michael…” The tension was broken by the office door swinging open. Michael could have sworn he locked that door when they came back in. Luckily for them, it wasn’t another murderer  had waltzed into Mell & Co. uninvited. It was Rich.

“Hey!” said Rich, a large smile on his face as he strolled up to Michael and Eliza. He was never one for reading the atmosphere. “How’s everyone doing?” No one answered him. “What did you think of my performance today? Eh? Eliza?” He nudged the spirit medium. “I had ‘em swooning in the aisles today, didn’t I?”

“Swooning? Um…” She exchanged looks with Michael. “I do remember someone nearly fainting…”

“I think my heart almost stopped…” Michael added in a monotone level.

_ But not because of you, Rich.  _ Rich stared at the depressed pair in front of him.

“Jeez, what’s with you guys?” he said. “Come on. We saved Jeremy out there today, didn’t we? I saved your asses!” Michael sighed.

“I won’t deny it. You did do a lot,” he said, trying to lift his own mood. “Without you, Jeremy would have been found guilty. Thanks.” Rich’s grin was the biggest one in the room. To be fair, it was the only one in the room. It was a few seconds that it disappeared. 

“Seriously, though. That boat shop caretaker guy is pretty suspicious… but until you take care of him, Jerry ain’t off the hook yet!” And Michael’s mood deflated.

“Way too spoil the mood, Rich,” said Eliza, sounding a bit pissed off. Rich took a small step away from her.

“Hey, I’m just the guy up in the stands. But… from where I was sitting, Jerry looked a bit… on edge.” Seemed like the tone of the conversation had finally penetrated Rich’s skull. “I mean… how do you know that he’s really telling the truth about that night?” Michael was quiet. He slowly stood.

“Michael?”

“... I don’t know.” As much as Michael hated to admit it, he wasn’t sure if Jeremy was telling the truth. He wasn’t able to sense when people were telling lies or something. It was more like his heart speaking over his mind concerning Jeremy’s innocence. “But I do know one thing. I’m going to believe in Jeremy until the end.”

“Aww…”

“Shush!” At least the atmosphere was starting to lighten up.

“Oh, come on,” said Eliza, hopping up on Michael’s desk. “I know why you trust him so much. It’s because you like him, isn’t it?’

“Eliza!” He had confided that to her in secret. She didn’t even know if Rich already knew. Why was she talking about it so casually?!

“Who are you guys talking about?” asked Rich. Shit.

“Prosecutor Heere.” Double shit. To Michael’s relief, Rich just laughed. He was taking Eliza’s statement as a joke.

“Nah, they’re just really good friends.” Rich nudged Michael. “isn’t that right?”

“... For now, maybe…” Michael muttered under his breath. Unfortunately, that was loud enough for Rich to hear. He stared at Michael, who had turned as red as his suit.

“Have you not told him?!” said Eliza rather loudly.

“I didn’t think that I needed to!” He was getting more and more obvious about his feelings, wasn’t he? He could have sworn that he had drunkenly told Rich at least once in their college days. Did Rich not really know?

“Tell me what?!” exclaimed Rich, extremely out of the loop. Eliza groaned.

“Michael likes Prosecutor Heere,” she said. Rich just stared at her.

“Of course he does.” At the point, even Michael was willing to groan. “They’re friends.”

“No…” Eliza looked over at Michael. He sighed, nodding. Well, it as bound to come out sooner or later with this whole trial. And Eliza already spilled the beans for the most part. “Kinda like… Uh…. Hmm. Michael. Help me out here.”

“It’s kinda like how you feel about every relationship you’re in,” said Michael, finding the best way for Rich to understand. “Ever.” Something clicked inside of his friend’s head.

“... oh.” Clarification was clear on his face. “Oooooh. Now a whole lotta things make sense.”

“What things?”

“Like why you believe so hard in Jeremy… kinda everything you do for him. That sorta stuff.”

“Not really,” Michael said with a shrug. “I just care about him. Even if he doesn’t return my feelings, and we just stay friends after this whole thing is over… I’ll still care about him.” 

There was a pink color to the lawyer’s cheeks. Though, Michael wasn’t going to make any promise that he wouldn’t kiss Jeremy Heere square on the mouth when all of this was over. The thought of planting one on his client made Michael’s blush grow deeper.

“Michael…” Michael cut away from his blissful daydream when Eliza said his name. “I am curious now. I bet that you and Prosecutor Heere used to be friends and all, and that you have a little crush on him… but is that the only reason you trust him so much? I know that he changed recently, but when we first met him, he was kind of a jerk.” Michael couldn’t deny that Jeremy was a bit of a jerk when the first met again… and then grew to be a huge bastard in their last trial together. Well, up until the very end.

“You didn’t know him back then — back when he wanted to become a defense attorney,” Michael said with a sigh.

“Was that when you two were friends in school?” Michael nodded. His mind fell back to the first day he actually started getting closer to Jeremy Heere.

“Yeah. We’ve been in the same classes from kindergarten until junior year in high school. We actually met in kindergarten, too. We were friends like how little kids were but… we really didn’t become best friends until about fourth grade. He saved me back then, you know. It’s partially why I became a defense attorney. Other than the whole… trying to the talk to Jeremy again thing.” Eliza stared at Michael, as did Rich. “What?”

“What are you talking about?” Michael laughed nervously when Eliza asked her question.

“It’s a long story.”

“We have until at least 10:00 AM tomorrow.” Eliza hopped up onto the desk. “I’m listening.” Michael sighed.

“Okay.” If he remembered right… “It was the beginning of fall, a few days after the first day of school. And I got myself put on trial. Well, not a real trial.” That didn't happen until college. “Just one with the teacher as the judge and my classmates as the—”

“Wait, back up a second. Your class put you on trial?” Michael nodded. “What did you do?”

“Someone got his money stolen. Look, our school was pretty small. Every month, kids would bring in an envelope for lunch.” Eliza slowly nodded. “Anyway, this kid’s money disappeared. It was around… thirty-eight dollars I think? I don’t remember.”

“Wait,” said Rich. At least it wasn’t only Eliza who was interrupting Michael’s story. “Now that you mention it… I think I do remember something like that. Everybody was talking about it during recess that day. I forgot about it.”

“I can see why you'd forget, though. You weren’t in the same class.” Michael sighed. He had to get this story over with. It wasn’t really one of his best memories… at least in the beginning. It was a bit painful to think about that part. “Anyway, the envelope had been stolen during PE class. I got my appendix taken out a few weeks before, and the cut didn't scar yet. To keep it from reopening, I got out of PE that day. I was the only one not in class.”

“So… they thought you did it?” asked Eliza.

“Naturally. The kids in the class said that I should be put on trial. And that’s what happened. The next day, we had our classroom trial. I was the defendant…” He could still remember that day in his mind.

* * *

 

**September 22, 2001**

**2:34 PM**

**Middleborough Elementary School**

**Room 14-B**

 

This had been a mistake. I had been a huge mistake. Michael wiped away the tears in his eyes with his fist. Everyone was shouting at him. His friends — the ones he had trusted — were yelling mean and horrible things at him. There was no one on his side. Michael was alone.

"Guilty!"

"He did it!"

"Guilty!"

"It was you!”

“B-But I didn’t do it!” Michael cried. His cries went unheard. Even the teacher did nothing.

"Just admit you did it!"

"You can't hide the truth!"

"Tell us the truth!"

“But I didn’t do it!” Michael cried again. “You have to believe me, I didn’t do it!” He had only found the envelope. He hadn’t taken the money out of it. It was already empty. But Mrs. Turner wouldn’t listen to him. No one would listen to him.

"Now, Michael, you know you shouldn't steal people's money!” said his teacher. “It's not right. You need to apologize, Michael." Michael didn't know what was happening. He was panicking. He couldn’t stop crying, no matter what he did. He sniffed, trying to calm down enough so that he could speak. He walked over to the boy sitting alone at his desk. Michael could barely get a word out before the boy stood up, slamming his hand down on his desk.

“OBJECTION!” shouted Little Jeremy Heere, a finger pointed in Michael’s face. Michael stared at him. The boy’s eyes were narrowed. He pulled his hand away before turning to their teacher. “He shouldn’t have to apologize. My mom says that the only thing that belongs in a trial is evidence! Y-You should all be sorry for what you did!”

“J-Jeremy?” Jeremy turned to the boy in front of him.

“You didn’t steal my money, did you?” Michael blinked. He quickly shook his head. Was Jeremy actually standing up for him?

“N-No…” Michael stuttered.

“Then you don’t need to apologize. Everyone’s been saying that you did it. But there isn’t any proof,” Jeremy said with a smile. He turned back to the teacher. “Your Honor, this boy is innocent!”

“B-But Jeremy,” said their teacher. “It was your money that was stolen, remember?” The class rang out in agreement. There was shouting again. Michael could feel himself starting to shake. He wanted them to stop. He wanted them to be quiet. All talk ceased when Jeremy slammed his hands down on his desk again.

“Why don’t you just be quiet?!” Jeremy Heere shouted again. He was  _ actually _ standing up for Michael. He believed him. He was on his side. “Is this how it is? He said he didn’t do it so… so he didn’t do it! You have no proof!” There was silence in the classroom. The teacher sighed.

“Very well,” she said. “I will replace the money myself. This class trial is over. You can all go home.” Michael’s tears were replaced with a bright, wide grin.

* * *

 

**December 27, 2016**

**2:19 PM**

**Mell & Co. Law Offices**

 

When Michael finished his story, both Eliza and Rich were quiet. They had been since Michael got to the part about the whole trial. The defense lawyer cleared his throat.

“And that’s what happened,” he said. “After that, I invited him over to my house as a way of saying thank you. We grew closer after that. And uh… I think you can guess what happened after that.” Rich and Eliza were still silent. “You guys can talk anytime now.”

“Sorry, it’s just…” Eliza said, breaking her silence. “I had no idea. I was homeschooled so… I didn't know that kids could be so cruel. Then again, I only know one little kid.” Michael sighed.

“That day, I learned what it was like to be alone without a friend in the world. Then, I become close with my best friend.” It had gone from zero to one hundred really quickly.

“They were just lucky I wasn’t in that class myself,” said Rich, eyes narrowed. “I would have taken care of them personally.”

_ You didn’t even know that I existed yet. _

“Like I said,” Michael continued, “Jeremy and I talked after that trial. That’s when I learned his mother was a defense attorney.” That memory was a pleasant one. The small, innocent Jeremy Heere excitedly talking about court and trials and his mother like they were the best thing since sliced bread. it was hard to believe that was all gone. “His eyes would shine when he talked about Mrs. Heere. Then…” His smile disappeared. “Well…”

“The DL-6 Incident happened,” Eliza finished. Michael nodded.

“His dad died a few years later. He transferred halfway through junior year. It wasn’t until college before I heard Jeremy’s name again. When I found that article in the paper… and you know the rest.”

“But why?” asked Rich, joining Eliza in sitting on the desk.  “What the hell happened?” Michael wanted to know the answer to that too. “That’s not the Jerry I used to know at all.”

“Same here,” Michael said with a sigh. “So, that’s when I decided to be a defense attorney. He had to meet me sooner or later.” He smirked. “Pretty clever plan if I say so myself.”

“But didn’t Rich give you the idea?”

“... no comment.” Michael shook his head. “Anyway, Jeremy believed in me back then and all throughout most of high school. I believe in him. You saw how he was sitting in the defendant’s defendant’s chair. He's in pain. No one’s on his side. I'm the one who knows the real Jeremy Heere. And right now… I'm the only one who can help him.”

“Whoa… So, Michael.” Rich hopped off of the desk, wrapping an arm around Michael’s shoulders (or at least attempting to). “Is that why you helped me out for free?”

“Uh… yes.” Michael removed Rich from his person. “I believed in you, so I helped you.”

_ Except I don't remember saying I'd do it  _ pro bono _ … I'm not getting paid for that trial, am I? _

“Michael, we have to help Prosecutor Heere,” said Eliza as she slid off of Michael’s desk as well. “Even if it’s the last thing we do.” It might just have been. “First, there’s that boat shop owner. We just need to find out who he is.”

“That should be easy enough.” Michael grabbed his coat from off of his chair. “Rich, cover the office until we get back. If the phone rings, don’t answer it. Let it go to voicemail.”

“Harsh.” Rich tossed Eliza her jacket. He sighed. “But fair.” Michael nodded. He ans Eliza left the office, rushing off to the apparent new scene of the crime.

* * *

 

**December 27, 2016**

**2:32 PM**

**Boat Rental Shop**

 

That old caretaker had gotten away. Michael never imagined that he might have been the murderer. That man could barely even  _ stand _ without falling asleep. The police (more like Christine and her senior partner, Detective Tiggular, who were busy combing the park) gave the pair permission to investigate the caretaker’s shop while the police scoured the park. Michael pushed the door open with a loud creak. The shop was entirely quiet… wheel, mostly. Polly the parrot still sat on her perch, and greeted the pair with a loud squawk hello.

“I can’t believed he’d run off and leave his poor parrot to fend for herself,” commented Eliza as she began stroking Polly’s feathers. Polly squad happily again. “Hey. That reminds me. Polly knows the number to the safe, right?”

“She should,” said Michael, eyeing the safe tucked away in the corner. “What was the number again? 1238?”

“1228. I wrote it down as soon as we go back to the office yesterday.” Michael walked over to the safe. It was small enough to look like a normal metal box. Using the number Eliza had given him, Michael input the combination into the lock. It clicked open without a problem. To Michael’s confusion, there wasn’t any money inside like one would expect.

“The only thing in here is a letter.” Michael returned the safe to it’s former place, albeit the letter inside.

“A letter?” Michael nodded. The enveloped was unmarked, but it had already been opened. He took out the letter itself hidden away inside.

_ Hmm... There's no name or signature on this thing. It's handwritten in very precise, clear letters…  _ Michael read over the letter.

“Doesn’t say what the caretaker’s name is either…” Michael sighed. Great. Were there any clues here? “Time is running out… this is your chance…. Get your revenge on Jeremy Heere.” Michael’s eyes went wide. “Get revenge on who?!”

“What?!” Eliza looked over Michael’s shoulder to get a look at the letter herself. “Why would Prosecutor Heere be in there?” Michael ignored her. He just kept reading.

“Now’s the time to get revenge on the two men who ruined your life…”

_ The rest of the letter goes on to describe the murder plot in detail! How to kill Robert Hammond, and frame Jeremy... ...Calling Jeremy out to the lake, getting on the boat... firing twice! This is exactly what I figured out today in court! It's all here... in perfect detail! _ Michael’s fingers curled tightly around the letter.

“What do you think this means?” Eliza asked as Michael folded the letter back up, sliding it into the envelope.

“No idea… but it seemed like these were instructions for the caretaker.” A thought struck him. “He killed Hammond and framed Jeremy because someone told him to.”

“Who could have written that letter?” The two began to leave the caretaker’s shop, taking care to shut the door behind them. “And what does it mean by ‘get revenge on Jeremy Heere’?”

“I don’t know.” Michael tucked the letter safely away in his coat pocket. “But I do know that this is an amazing clue. And I think I have a feeling about who can help figure out what’s going on…”

This really wasn’t how Michael wanted to talk to Jeremy again after the trial, but it was information he needed to know. He and Eliza headed to the detention center.

* * *

 

**December 27, 2016**

**2:46 PM**

**Detention Center**

**Visitor's Room**

 

Jeremy’s expression hadn’t changed from the time he had left the courthouse to when Michael and Eliza met with him at the detention center. There was something obviously bothering him. That memory he was talking about had to be the root of this whole mess.

“Um… Prosecutor Heere?” said Eliza, trying to get him to talk. “I heard the story about the trial you and Michael were in when you were little.” That got him to talk, alright.

“Trial? What are you talking about?” He remembered the other day. How out of it was he?

“Um… the one where your money got stolen. You said you are in fourth grade, right Michael?” Michael nodded. God, she had a scary good memory. Jeremy slowly nodded. “Did you know this? That trial as part of the reason Michael became a defense attorney.” Jeremy snapped to attention.

“It was… what?”

“Not entirely… but yeah,” said Michael. The rest of the reason would have to come out at another point in time.

“To be honest… it does sound like something that you would do…” For the first time since Christmas, Michael saw a smile on Jeremy’s face. It seemed like forever that he had seen a real one. “You haven’t changed a bit, have you Mell?

“Well… yeah. I guess.” Speaking of becoming defense attorneys… “Hey, Jeremy. Why  _ did _ you become a prosecutor anyway?” The smile disappeared from Jeremy’s face. “You used to look up to your mom so much… You said you wanted to be a defense attorney just like her.”

“... Couldn't let myself deny reality like you.” His tone had turned dark and grim. “My mother was taken from me without a second thought… I wanted to make her proud, even when she was dead. Then I lost my dad to some driver who couldn’t take her eyes off of her phone for more than a minute! And… and you think that I would defend criminals? Criminals who steal and kill without a second thought?! The people who killed my family got away with their sins.  _ Twice. _ No one in this world cares about justice anymore. There needs to be justice when people commit a crime… under any possible circumstances.” He was shaking at this point. “I’m sorry Mell, but I’m not that good of a person!”

Michael fell quiet. He had no idea.  Jeremy was usually so good with keeping his emotions bottled up inside. Was this really eating away at him all those years? Some best friend Michael was. How did he not realize it?

“This has to do with your mother’s murder, right?” asked Eliza. Jeremy solemnly nodded. That much was obvious enough.

“Yes. That day…. a man was trapped in the elevator with my mother and I,” he explained. “His name was… Yanni Yogi I think. Any way you look at it, he had to be the shooter. And yet, he was found innocent.” To say that Jeremy sounded bitter was an understatement. “That defense attorney got him off the hook. I can’t say anything about it though, I barely remember the day myself. We all suffered from oxygen deprivation from being trapped in there for so long. Long story short… I lost nearly my entire memory.”

“Wait, you lost your memory?’ Michael repeated. Jeremy nodded.

“Even now I can barely recall what happened, no matter how hard I try.” Jeremy sighed. “That was the crux of Hammond’s argument. He claimed that Yogi wasn’t ‘of sound mind’ because of the lack of oxygen. He was released. Innocent. I started to hate defense attorneys then, but my dad convinced me otherwise. He said that things like this just happen. So, I kept that hate buried. Or at least I did until my father died, and my uncle took me in.”

“Williams.” Jeremy nodded again. Michael had a sneaking suspicion. “What exactly does he have to do with this?”

“He's my uncle. A man who deserves respect.” The current defense team would say otherwise. “I learned everything I know of my courtroom techniques from him.” That explained a lot.

“So, he’s something like my sister as to you Michael,” remarked Eliza. Michael couldn’t answer. Jeremy had slammed his hand up against the glass between them.

“No,” he said, sounding furious. “He is  _ nothing _ like Angelica Schuyler. He is a perfectionist in all things. In court… in his personal life….” Jeremy grabbed at his forearm, wincing as if he were in pain. “He is obsessed with doing everything perfectly. In all the cases he has taken on, none were left unresolved. And not one defendant was declared innocent. Ever.” That didn’t bode well for the current case.

“But…” stammered Eliza. “But that’s…”

“I know,” Jeremy said with a sigh. “It’s possible some of the suspects were indeed innocent. However it’s impossible to accurately determine that in every case. All Eric Williams does is his job. Perfectly. It’s impossible to find a weakness in him. Should a weakness appear… he will do everything in his power to make it go away.” Once more, Jeremy grabbed his forearm. “He will do it for everyone and everything in his life.”

_ That doesn’t sound right. Jeremy’s hiding something about Eric Williams. What it is… I don’t know.  _ Michael sighed. Well, now it was time to do what he actually came here to do. And he hated it. He pulled out the letter he had found in the caretaker’s safe.

“Jeremy… speaking of the whole… prosecutor thing…” Michael slid the letter underneath the glass to Jeremy. “That came out of the safe in the shack where the boat guy lives.” Jeremy as silent as he took the letter. He remained stone-faced as he read. His reaction was the same as Michael’s was.

“G-Get revenge on… me?!” he exclaimed. “Just who is this old guy?” Michael and Eliza could only shrug.

“Maybe he’s an innocent defendant you got declared guilty or something?” suggested Eliza.

“I don’t know,” Jeremy sighed. “All I do know is that if he was following this letter, that means someone else was behind it. I mean.. ‘Now's your time to get revenge on the two men who ruined your life’... That might mean me and Hammond.” He slid the letter back to Michael.

“But the letter also says that it’s their last chance. What does that mean?”

“Maybe,” interjected Michael with an idea. “Maybe he’s talking about the statute of limitations?” There was a pause as the thought was considered. It seemed like the idea struck everyone at the same time. What if that was what was actually going on?

“W-Wait,” stuttered Jeremy. “D-Do you think that old man could be…”

“Yogi? Yanni Yogi?” finished Eliza. Jeremy nodded. “Well, we don’t know where he disappeared to after the DL-6 Incident so… possibly!” Michael leaned back in his chair. There's something about that… about DL-6. It kept coming up more and more. Yet, he knew barely anything beyond what the media had released. Even the case files were pretty vague.

“Jeremy… we keep talking about that case… but…” This would be hard to ask of him. Michael had to know. “Jeremy, you never told me. You never told anyone, actually. Why  _ do _ you remember happening that day? I have to know.” Jeremy stared down at the table. He took in a shaky breath.

“It’s been fifteen years… yet you don’t know. Guess I don’t have anyone else to blame for that but myself.” Jeremy sighed. He leaned back. “My mother had taken me to a trial of hers. It was her Christmas present to me. This was before the initial trial system, so she had been defending her client for about a year at that point. December 28th was when it reached its climax. In the end, her client was found guilty. Her assistant at the time had gone to the bathroom and promised to meet up with us later. Yanni Yogi at the time was a court bailiff. He was escorting my mother and I off the premises. We entered the elevator together and…” His eyes glazed over.

“Then the earthquake happened,” Eliza finished for him. Jeremy slowly nodded.

“Yes. It was a rather… intense quake. Before I knew it, everything went dark. We were in there for so long… it felt like forever. The air thinned…. and the darkness closed in on us. My mother tried to keep me calm but… things soon grew… unsettled….”

* * *

 

**December 28, 2001**

**6:52 PM**

**District Court**

**Elevator**

 

Hannah Heere held her son close. It was growing cold in that dark, little room. Jeremy was shaking. He had lost track of how long they had been in there. His fear was starting to mount. Hannah was doing her best to keep her child calm. It wasn’t helping that the bailiff inside the elevator with them was screaming his head off.

“I-I can’t breathe!” Hannah cast a glare in his direction. This had gone on long enough.

“Will you be quiet?” she said firmly. The bailiff wouldn’t listen. Hannah’s grip on Jeremy grew tighter. “I said be quiet! You’re not making this any easier!”

“I want to get out! The bailiff began clawing at his neck. “Help! Get us out!” Hannah pulled Jeremy closer.

“Shut up! You’re just using up more oxygen!” 

“I… I can’t breathe!” The bailiff turned to Hannah and Jeremy wit a dark glint in his eye. “You… You’re using up all my air!” Jeremy’s eyes went wide.

“Wh-What?”

“Stop breathing my air!” The man lunged at Hannah. He tore her son away from his mother. Jeremy landed harshly on the floor of the elevator. “I'll… I'll stop you!” Jeremy heard his mother scream.

“G-Get off of me!” She was choking. Jeremy could see the bailiff's hands wrapped around his mother’s throat. 

_ No! Mom! He's attacking Mom!  _ Jeremy had to do something. He couldn’t let this man hurt his mother. He felt something at his feet. Not knowing what it was, he picked it up. Jeremy ad to do something.

“Get away...! Get away from my mom!” He threw the object in his hands at the bailiff.

_ BANG _ . There was a bloodcurdling scream. Everything went black.

* * *

 

**December 27, 2016**

**2:53 PM**

**Detention Center**

**Visitor's Room**

 

As Jeremy’s story came to a close, he looked like he was about to be sick. He was far off in another world.

“And that’s all I remember,” he told Michael and Eliza. “By the time I came to, I was in a hospital bed with my dad by my side. In court, my own testimony couldn’t be used in convicting Yogi. They claimed that the oxygen deprivation we all suffered cause temporary insanity.” His fingers dug in his the fabric of his jacket. “The claim passed in court. Yogi was found innocent.”

“But… if he was found innocent…” Eliza mused, her fingers tracing the outline of her charm, “Why would he want to take revenge on you?” Jeremy was quiet. He tried to shrink himself. He glanced up at Michael.

“Mell, there’s something else that I should tell you.” He was scared about something. “That nightmare I’ve been having… I should probably tell you all about it.”

“A nightmare that you’ve been having for almost fifteen years…” Michael muttered. Jeremy slowly nodded. He shut his eyes.

“It’s a dream about my mother’s death.” Michael went rigid. “It’s dark. I see a pistol lying by my feet. I’m in such a daze, I pick it up. There’s a scream.” Jeremy looked absolutely terrified. “That scream has not left my mind for the past fifteen years.”

“B-But that’s just a dream, right?” Eliza’s fingers were curled tightly around her charm. Jeremy gave her a pathetic shrug.

“I’m not so sure anymore. What if I’m wrong and it’s not a dream? What if it’s real? They say that people shut out their memories in self-defense. Maybe… Maybe I was the one who kill my mother!” Michael shot up out of his chair, slamming his hands down on the table.

“No, no you didn’t!” he said. It was impossible. Jeremy wasn’t a killer.

“It makes sense! Think about it. If Yogi really was innocent, he would want revenge against me! If I didn’t do it, and then he wouldn’t have been blamed! His reputation wouldn’t have been ruined!”

“Jeremy, wait—” It was too late. Jeremy had his mind made up.

“It was me. I’m the true criminal of the DL-6 Incident. I shot my mother!”

* * *

 

**December 27, 2016**

**3:02 PM**

**Mell & Co. Law Offices**

 

Michael wasn’t sure what to do. Jeremy was ready to confess to his true involvement in DL-6. And knowing Williams, he would drag it out of the man in court tomorrow. Michael needed to know more about DL-6. It was impossible that Jeremy was the killer. He would never kill someone. Even if Michael didn’t believe in him, he felt like it just seemed illogical. But the records wouldn't have any more information on DL-6. Luckily for him, Eliza knew just who to call to the office for help.

Michael snapped to attention as Eliza walked into the office, her fiancé trailing in behind her.

“Mr. Hamilton, finally!” Michael said in relief.

“Again. Call me Alexander,” Hamilton insisted. He looked over at Eliza. She was biting down on her lip. She hadn’t been the same since they returned from the detention center. “What's wrong? You said you needed to talk, but you look more troubled than anything.”

“No kidding,” said Eliza flatly. “Prosecutor Heere… He…. He…” Eliza was the one to burst. She spilled about everything. She told Hamilton about Jeremy’s nightmare, his tale and that he had believed he had committed the DL-6 Incident. When Eliza had finished, Hamilton was unusually quiet.

“So… Heere dreamt that he shot his own mother? Michael nodded. “Hmm… I wonder if…”

“What is it?” asked Eliza with a sniff. Michael needed the advice from a veteran lawyer. Preferably someone who knew the details of DL-6. He would have asked Angelica, but she was currently unavailable.

“Well, consider this: Yogi seems to hold quite a deep grudge against Jeremy Heere, so it makes sense for him to want to get revenge,” said Hamilton, throwing in his two cents. “It’s possible that Mr. Heere’s dream was  _ not _ a dream at all.” That’s what Michael was afraid of. “Jeremy Heere threw that pistol to save his mother. By accident, the pistol fired… and the deed was done.”

“And because Yogi was suspected as the murderer, his career and reputation were wrecked,” finished Eliza. “So he sought revenge on Prosecutor Heere. And with the statute of limitations so close, this was his last chance.” Hamilton nodded. Still, it wasn't enough information. Michael needed to know more.

“What do you know about Hannah Heere? Jeremy’s mother.” Michael had briefly known her when he started coming over Jeremy’s house. However, he knew nothing about her professional life. Hamilton was quiet for a while before he spoke.

“... she was a defense attorney who wasn't afraid of anything. It sounds clichéd, but its true,” said the veteran. “As you imagine, Hannah Heere was very disapproving fo her brother's techniques.” That wasn’t much of a surprise. “Eric Williams is an extreme man. Forged testimonies and evidence are nothing to him. The result? He has a perfect win record. To beat him, Hannah Heere tried to call attention to his methods. She had believed that a crucial piece of evidence was forged, and that her own brother was the culprit. And…” Hamilton sighed. “She lost. She lost and died in despair.”

“I see…” muttered Eliza. Michael kept quiet. Hamilton continued.

“When Hannah Heere was killed, the police found themselves quickly running out of options. So, they made the choice to call on a spirit medium. That would be your father, Eliza. And yet, Yogi was still found innocent.”

“That's when my father left us,” Eliza said bitterly. “Everyone called him a fraud.” Hamilton put a hand on his fiancée’s hand to help calm her down.

“Everyone thought he was. Yet… now that I think about it… it is possible that Hannah Heere lied to protect her son. She must have known who shot her.” Michael shook his head. That was not true. It couldn't be true. It was impossible.

“I don't believe it,” said Michael. More like he refused to believe it. “Mrs. Heere lied to protect her son? I don't…”

“It's only a possibility,” enforced Hamilton. “However, it is still a possibility nonetheless.” It was a possibility that Michael didn't want to consider. “If you don't mind me asking… what brought up all this in the first place?”

Michael brought out the letter he and Eliza had taken from the crime scene. He explained to Hamilton what it was. Alexander was quiet as he read it over. He was calm when he finished.

“It does seem Yogi was following this letter when he killed Hammond…”

“But why would he kill Hammond?” Eliza asked. “Why not just kill Prosecutor Heere?” Michael really didn't want to think about that.

“My only theory is that because, unlike Mr. Mell here, Hammond defended clients for his own sake. He never trusted them. The only thing he trusted was his own ability.”

“But, he got his client found innocent. I still don’t get it.”

“Because despite the verdict, Yogi was still socially ruined,” said Michael. “Right?” Hamilton nodded. He stared down at the letter again. After a second, his eyes went wide.

“What is it?” Michael said. Something was up.

“I've seen this handwriting before.” Hamilton shoved the letter back into Michael’s hands. “Angelica had files on every case she had been apart of. And files on all the information of the case that destroyed her family. DL-6.” Hamilton dashed over to the filing cabinets. With incredible ease, he found several files from back when Angelica ran the office. “If I'm right…” He began scanning through the files.

“Alexander?”

“Mr. Hamilton?” Hamilton pulled out something. It was a copy of a handwritten witness statement. He set it out beside the letter. The handwriting matched up.

"He wrote this letter… why didn't I see it sooner?!” 

“Mr. Hamilton, who wrote the letter?!” Hamilton handed the statement to Michael. 

“Take a look at this.” Michael glanced at him before looking down at the statement.

_ “On the afternoon of December 28, 2001, I was working late in the courthouse when an earthquake had struck. The power was knocked out as a result. For hours I wandered through the dark, trying to find my way out. At around 7 PM was when the power started working again. As I made my way to the exit, I smelled the scent of blood. I followed it until I came across the unconscious bodies of Yanni Yogi and Jeremy Heere in an open elevator. I also discovered the dead body of Hannah Heere.” Wait… December 31, 2001. Signed by… _

“Eric Williams?!”

“What?!” Eliza exclaimed, leaning over Michael’s shoulder to get a look at the statement. “But… if this handwriting matches the one on the letter… then… then that means the mastermind is…”

“Prosecutor Eric Williams!” said both Michael and Eliza. Michael had a feeling something was up with that guy. He thought it was just because he was an asshole.

“What does this mean?” Michael asked, picking up the letter from off the table  “Why would Williams want to frame Jeremy...? I mean, the guy’s an asshole, don't get me wrong but… I mean… Jeremy’s his nephew. They're a family. I don’t get it.”

“Hmm… I don't know…” said Hamilton with a shrug. “If it was Williams who wrote this letter, then he would know the truth. He would know that Jeremy Heere had accidentally killed his own mother. Hannah was his closest living relative left at the time. And if she died… and he found out the truth… he would do anything to avenge his sister’s death. Even if it meant framing her own son. William is going to press Heere until he pleads guilty.” 

Michael stood there quiet. Williams knew. He set this whole thing up. He knew. Michael wanted to deny the truth more than anything but… William's was going to bring this out in the trial. There would be no way for Michael to change the verdict now. He will break Jeremy to the point the judge declared him guilty. Michael slammed a fist against the wall.

“No! I won't let him do that!”

“Th-That’s right!” added Eliza. “How could Williams even know about Prosecutor Heere’s past like that? It was just a nightmare to him! Even for family, I find it very strange that he would know that. They weren’t immediate.” Eliza had a point.

“That, I don't know either,” said Hamilton when Michael didn't speak. “What I do know is that Williams is a persistent perfectionist.” Michael sighed, backing away from the wall. Hamilton also had a point. But… something about wanting to avenge his sister's death… it felt off to Michael somehow. Why wait until now? Jeremy had lived with him for the longest time. Williams could have taken revenge then. So… why was he doing it now?

“Besides avenging Mrs. Heere… what other possible motive could Williams have?” Michael wondered aloud. His knuckles were red. “Besides the obvious vengeance, I mean.”

“Well… another motive may be to satisfy his grudge with Hannah Heere by going after and hurting her son.” Michael turned to face Eliza and Hamilton.

“What do you mean? They were siblings. Why would he want to hurt his own sister? I mean, I get sibling rivalry and all that but… doesn't that seem a little extreme in this case?”

“It could be over what happened in court between them.” Hamilton went on to explain further, leaning up against the desk. “Although he did win, Eric Williams did not make it through that trial unscathed.” Michael exchanged a look with Eliza.

“What happened?”

“Although she lost the trial, Mrs. Heere’s accusation that Williams had forged evidence stood. For it, the Chief Prosecutor at the time penalized him. It stands to date to be the only penalty that Eric Williams had received in his entire career. Hannah Heere dealt a blow to his perfect record.” Hamilton heaved a sigh. “She was a kind woman from what I had heard. She fought for what was right. She cared about her brother. She didn’t want him to go down the wrong path. So, she brought his wrongdoings to the light.” Michael never imagined Hannah Heere like that. From the things Jeremy had told him, Michael always saw Mrs. Heere as a baker of cookies and defender of justice. 

“The whole ordeal must have been quite a shock for William's. And then with the DL-6 Incident…” Hamilton continued. “He took a vacation for several months after that, you see. It's why he wrote out his testimony for the detectives. He couldn't even bare to be in court.”

“I know. I read about it. I thought it kind of was weird.”

_ Though, I just chalked that up as grieving over his sister’s death after a while. Maybe he… Maybe he took off for another reason? I just can’t figure out what. _

“Yes, an unusual event for the man. That was the first, and the last vacation he's taken in his many years of prosecuting. In any case... That was the only time he took a vacation from work. I believe the death of his sister upset him quite a lot.”

_ Eric Williams upset over someone’s death? From what I’ve seen, it’s only a slim possibility.  Even if it was his sister. Though it is odd... If he wanted to keep a perfect record so badly... why would he take such a long vacation? _

“What are we going to do, Michael?” Michael was snapped from his thoughts when Eliza shook his shoulder. “Williams is going to bring up DL-6. … what if Prosecutor Heere pleads guilty to it?!”

“I won't let him!” Michael said near immediately. He would object all he could to stop Jeremy from pleading guilty.

“Michael,” said Hamilton. “I hate to say this… but even accidental murder is murder, you know.”

“I know that!” He didn't want to hear it. Michael wishes deeply that it wasn't true. “I… I just…  I believe in Jeremy’s innocence. I can't believe that… no, I’d  _ never  _ believe that he could… that he could kill someone!”

“Michael, calm down!”

“I am calm!” Michael was definitely not calm. Eliza sighed.

“Look, even Prosecutor Heere admitted it!!” she said, still trying to sway Michael’s train of thought. That thing wouldn't budge. “His own mother lied to protect from beyond the grave.”

“I don't care! I know he's not guilty!” Eliza had worry in her eyes. Michael wanted to hit the wall again. Everyone kept saying that Jeremy was guilty, even Jeremy himself. There was more to this whole thing. There had to be. Michael refused to give in and let Jeremy call himself a murderer.

“... Michael…” Michael almost forgot that Hamilton was even here. “If you believe in Mr. Heere's innocence… I would check the police files over again. They may hold something of interest to your case.” Michael thought about it.

“Mr. Hamilton…” Michael grinned. “Thank you!” It was a long shot, but it was worth a try.

“Alexander. Again, I can't promise anything. In fact, I think the chances of finding something are slim.”

“Understood!” Michael had barely heard what he said. What was important to him at the moment was that he had a lead in the case. It was just the lead he needed. Michael grabbed his coat and raced out to his car. Eliza quickly followed behind. This may have been their one, perfect lead.

* * *

 

**December 27, 2016**

**3:21 PM**

**Police Department**

**Criminal Affairs**

 

When Michael and Eliza reached the police station, it was near empty. All that remained were a few straggling officers. There was not a detective in sight. Michael suspected that they were all looking for that old man at the moment. Eliza managed to catch one of the officers as he was leaving.

“Um, excuse me?”she said sweetly to the man. “We were wondering if we could check the records room?” The officer glanced over at Michael. He gave a little wave to the policeman.

“Well, I can't have just anyone wandering in there.” By anyone, Michael guessed he meant defense attorneys specifically. “But…” But? “I guess as long as Mr. Williams is there, you can go in.” Michael's eyes went wide. Did he just say…

“Williams?” said Eliza, finishing Michael’s internal thought. The officer nodded.

_ The SQUIP is in the Records Room!? Why?!  _ Eliza grabbed Michael’s wrist. They had to hurry. With Eliza leading, the pair ran into the records room. It was still covered in that thick layer of dust. Everything seemed to be undisturbed this far. They began to quickly search the records room. There was nothing out of the ordinary. But… William's was nowhere in sight.

“Michael!” came Eliza’s voice from around a corner. Michael followed it to find Eliza standing in front of an open drawer. The label read: UNSOLVED CASES — EVIDENCE “Do you think…?”

“Williams was here?” Eliza nodded. “Yeah, it seems like it.” Eliza began rummaging through the drawer. A short gasp followed a moment later when she found the file for DL-6.

“It’s empty!”

“Wh-What?!” Eliza opened the file. Sure enough, everything inside of it was gone. What the hell? The statute of limitations wasn't up until tomorrow. Why would the evidence be missing? They would have gotten rid of it a few days from now, not today!

“What do you think you're doing in here?” Michael and Eliza whipped around. Standing behind them with a thick folder tucked under his arms was none other than…

“P-Prosecutor Williams!” Eliza exclaimed. Williams stared at the two for a moment before groaning.

“You. Of course,” he said with incredible disdain. He sighed. “Why am I not surprised?” Michael pulled Eliza closer to him. There was something about Williams’s tone… “You see, defense attorneys are like bugs to me. They get everywhere. And like bugs, they are pests that need to be crushed.” Michael narrowed his eyes.

_ Well, fuck you too.  _ Michael stepped forward. Now was better time than any to confront Williams over the mystery letter. He took it out of his pocket.

“Mr. Williams, see this?” Michael held the letter out to show him. The prosecutor was silent. “My assistant and I found this at the caretaker's shack. Or should I say Yanni Yogi’s shack. This was you who wrote the letter, wasn't it? You were one who instructed Yanni Yogi to commit murder!”

“... Yanni Yogi… how many years has it been since I've heard him called that name?” said Williams with an exasperated sigh. “Hm. He's an idiot. I told him to burn that after reading it.” Wait…

“S-So you admit it!” said Eliza before Michael could get a word out. “You wrote this letter.” Williams tried to snatch the letter from Michael’s hand. Michael stepped back.

“Yes, my daringly foolish girl,” said Williams with a sneer. “And thank you for taking away the trouble of retrieving it by bringing it to me directly.” Williams chuckled as he reached inside his coat. “Now… give it to me.” He pulled something out from the confines of his coat. The strong sound of crackling electricity was in the air.

“Michael, what is that thing?”

“A stun gun. It’s used for self-defense.” Michael pushed Eliza behind him. “Usually.”

“Indeed,” said Williams with satisfaction. He stared at the sparks jumping between the prongs. “600,000 volts coursing through your body like a dog touching an electric fence.”

“Six hundred thous…?!” Michael was pretty sure that was more than enough to kill a grown man.

“Oh. Don't worry. People don't die from it… usually.” In the dim light, Michael could see the dried bloodstains on the prongs of the stun gun. “I've used it plenty of times on two certain someones — one more so than the other. They haven’t died yet. Now…” Williams held out his hand. “Give me that letter.” Michael grit his teeth together. His hold on Eliza grew tighter. He was prepared to run.

“Over my dead body.” Williams chuckled darkly.

“That can be arranged.” There was a flash. Williams lunged at Michael. Michael felt Eliza slip away from his grasp.

“No!” Michael could hear the thud as Eliza put herself between Michael and Prosecutor Williams. She was holding him back. She was losing.

“What are you—?!”

“Michael, run!” There wasn't enough time. Williams freed himself from Eliza’s grip. He jabbed her in the stomach. Her shriek rang throughout the records room.

“Eliza!” Eliza collapsed on the floor. Michael felt his fists ball up. His fight response took over. He swung at Williams. His fist met flesh. That was the last sensation Michael felt before pain. Electrifying pain ran through his veins. He dropped like a fly onto the floor.

It had to be hours before Michael regained consciousness. He groaned. The world was pain. There was something missing from his hand. The letter.

_ Ugh... he got us. The letter's... gone, of course. And he took the DL-6 evidence... all of it. Back to having no clues. Wait... Eliza jumped first. Eliza...! Is she okay? … _

“Eli… Eliza?!” She had fallen right next to Michael. Lucky for him, her heart was still beating. Michael shook her. “Eliza, come on! Open your eyes.” Eliza didn't stir. Michael had already lost one of the Schuyler sisters. He did not want to lose another. He shook Eliza harder. “Eliza!”

A small groan from the woman gave Michael all the relief he needed. Eliza slowly sat up, holding her head in her hand. The other was rested on Michael’s shoulder as support. 

“Th… The letter…” were the first words out of Eliza’s mouth. “Did… Did he take it?”

“That's not important!” Williams did take the letter, but that wasn't the important thing at the moment. “Are you okay?!”

“... I…” Eliza shook her head. “I couldn't stop him. I tried, but one hit from that thing knocked me out cold!” Her voice was cracking. Eliza had hot tears streaking down her cheeks. “I'm useless! I'm not good as a lawyer or a medium! I can't even call my sister… not even now, when we need her the most!” She buried her face in Michael’s shoulder as heavy sobs raked her chest. “I wish I never woke up!” 

Michael tightened his hands around her arms. He let Eliza stay on that position. What kind of person was he? He couldn't tell when his own friends were caught in an internal turmoil. First it was Jeremy… now Eliza. If this kept up, Michael was bound to lose one of them.

It was a few minutes before Eliza went quiet. She had cried herself back into a deep slumber. 

_ There has to be some way I can help her! I'd better do something about her self-confidence, first....?  _ The shape of something on the floor caught Michael’s eye.  _ Huh? What is that?  _ Michael reached over and picked it up. It was something sealed inside of a bag. He could feel what it was.  _ A bullet?  _ In the dim light, Michael could read something that was written on the bag.

"DL-6 Incident, Evidence No. 7. Taken from the heart of Hannah Heere,” Michael muttered out loud. Now that he thought about it, Williams had been holding a file when Eliza jumped him. That had to have contained the evidence from DL-6. She must have knocked it out of the folder without Williams even realizing. 

Michael shoved the bullet in his pocket. With great care, he picked Eliza up. He walked out of the records room, carrying her in his arms. Hopefully Alexander would be at the office still. Eliza could spend the night at his place. 

_ I'll prove it to you, Eliza. You're definitely not useless! I'll prove it to you in court tomorrow! Just you wait! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is is possible to make the SQUIP even worse? The answer is yes. Yes it is.
> 
> And he only gets worse from this point on! The next two chapters only makes him more of a bastard. A bastard who deserved to get punched in the face.
> 
> Bonus points if anyone can guess who those two "someones" the SQUIP had mentioned to have used the stun gun on.
> 
> I am also liking writing Hannah Heere, even if it was for one little scene. Really excited to get to write AAI2 just to get to write her again. If you can't guess, I went with the book version of Jeremy's mother opposed to the musical version. I needed that bit of plot.
> 
> My final message for this chapter? Everyone needs a hug! Except for the SQUIP. The SQUIP needs to get punched in the face again.


	19. December 28th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final day begins and Michael is willing to do anything to stop Williams from getting Jeremy convicted. Even if it means pulling the most ridiculous move of his law career thus far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for not updating in over two (maybe three?) months. I was busy with school, which i am now free of since I graduated last month. I meant to update then, but kept forgetting about it. So!
> 
> At this point, Turnabout Goodbyes itself is done. All that's left is the bonus, and I'm going to get started on Rise from the Ashes. Which will hurt. A lot. For you or for me is still yet to be decided.
> 
> Now enjoy Michael arguing with a parrot.

**December 28, 2016**

**9:51 AM**

**District Court**

**Defendant Lobby No. 2**

 

_ This is it... judgment day. Today, things are going to get settled at last... a lot of things.  _ A sudden jolt of electricity run out from Michael’s shoulder, causing him to screech. He was trying to psych himself up for the trial that day, not electrocute himself. He whirled around too a nervous looking Eliza.

“S-Sorry!” she stuttered. “I guess the shock hasn’t worn of from that run in with Prosecutor Williams yesterday…” Michael groaned at that memory. “I just came to say good luck.”

“Yeah, thanks…” That was some ‘good luck’ she passed onto him. The doors to the defendant’s lobby swung open. The bailiff tossed in the defendant. Jeremy stumbled in as the door slammed shut. His expression was blank as a piece of paper.

_ I hope Williams doesn't push Jeremy too hard.  _ Eliza reached out to try and reassure the prosecutor. It was not the best idea. As soon as her hand touched his sleeve, Jeremy tensed up. He let out a similar shriek to the one Michael made moments ago. Eliza jumped back.

“Wh-What are you doing?!” Jeremy seethed. He looked like he had just been bitten by a poisonous snake rather than shocked by static.

“I’m sorry! I just thought I’d cheer you up with a pat on the back…” Eliza backed away. She made her way towards the door. “I’m gonna go…. discharge.” She rushed out of the doors.

_ Try not to electrocute anyone on your way out…  _ There was another screech from outside the lobby, followed by a rather familiar giggling. Before Michael could guess who Eliza had shocked now, the door swung open again. Instead of a bailiff or Eliza, the newcomers were Christine Canigula and a shaken Detective Tiggular.

“What is with that girl?” Tiggular muttered, rubbing at the palm of his hand. Christine was the one who was laughing. She stopped when she saw the lawyers in front of her. She flashed a forceful smile.

“Good morning,” she said in a cheery manner. At least someone was trying to remain positive.

“Mornin,” replied Michael. Jeremy had fallen back into a string of silence. Christine let her smile fall. She waved her hand in front of his face. No reaction. Tiggular snapped his fingers in front of Jeremy’s face. Jeremy flinched, but it did snap him out of his trance.

“Oh… good morning,” said Jeremy, once again montoone. Michael sighed. It would take a lot to lift his mood again. 

“So…” said Michael, turning to the detectives. He had remembered where they had been all day yesterday, “Did you guys find the old man?” Christine put back on her grin.

“Have no fear! We caught our runaway caretaker!” she said proudly. Finally, something was going right with this trial. “It took all night but…” Christine yawned. “We managed.”

“Thanks.” Christine yawned again. “You guys look really tired.”

“We look awesome.” The bags under Christine’s eyes told an entirely different story.

“Actually…” Tiggular said, rubbing his palm once again. “After that shock I got on the way in, I feel pretty damn good!” Michael sighed, leaning up against the wall.

_ Yogi says he's forgotten his own name... But that has to be a lie! Why would he want revenge on Jeremy if he couldn't remember his past!? He does remember... and I'm going to prove it! _

* * *

 

**December 28, 2016**

**10:00 AM**

**District Court**

**Courtroom No. 3**

 

Court began. Michael felt tense. Though… there was one little thing that made him feel a bit better about yesterday's incident. He and Eliza didn’t seem to be the ones injuries in the assault in the records room.

“Uh… right, very well,” muttered the judge after the prosecution claimed to be ready for the trial. “Prosecutor Williams?” Williams glanced up at the judge. “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to your face?”

“Yeah, Prosecutor Williams,” said Michael, staring directly at the strangely fist-sized black and-blue mark on Williams’ cheek. “How did you get that nasty bruise?” Williams’ eye twitched.

“Let’s just say I ran into a little problem with a pair of pests yesterday,” Williams spat. He was staring dead at the defense. “That’s all I wish to say on the matter.”

_ Can't tell the truth unless you want to be arrested for assault. I won't get arrested if he does, right? It was self-defense… I think.  _ Williams cleared his throat, sending another glare towards the defense.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the court,” said the prosecutor. “Thanks to the efforts of head detective Fiyero Tiggular and his junior partner--” Michael could hear Christine faintly groan in the stands-- “the boat rental shop caretaker has been arrested. In yesterday’s trial, the defense asserted that the caretaker was in fact, our murderer. This has yet to be confirmed.” And so, the witness was brought into the stand. He looked the same as before, and barely could stand. Michael sighed.

“I believe that you all remember our witness,” continued Prosecutor Williams. “He saw the incident in question from the shop he runs. In addition, he has _ recently lost his memory,  _ including _ his name. _ ” Michael narrowed his eyes. He knew the witness’s name just as well as the defense did. _ “ _ Even so, the witness does have a justifiable explanation for leaving yesterday. Witness!” The witness snapped awake. “Testify!”

“Er…” the witness said with a sniff. “I’m really sorry about just leaving yesterday like I did. I wasn’t running away of anythin’. I, uh, went to buy some food for Polly, see… I figured I got nothing to do with this incident anyhow. Er... I mean, I'd need one of those ‘motive’ things, right? And I don't got one. So, my testimony yesterday stands as is.” Michael narrowed his eyes.

_ He has to know his name! Yanni Yogi! You're Yanni Yogi and I'm going to prove it!  _ It was time to tear this testimony apart until nothing remained but microscopic pieces. The first step was proving that he was Yogi.

“You’ve lost most of your memory,” said Michael, side-eyeing the witness. “Is that right?” Yogi nodded. “Then how could you know that you had nothing to do with the incident in question, hmm? O-Or maybe you're lying to the court about having amnesia! You know exactly who you are, just admit it!”

“OBJECTION!” snapped Williams before he witness could speak. “The witness has testified quite clearly that he has no memory of his identity. If you claim he’s lying, then show your evidence.” Michael grit his teeth together.

_ How am I supposed to prove what's going on in that old man’s head? That's impossible!  _ He slammed his hand down on the bench.

“How can you say that you had no motive?!” said the lawyer. He had to get Yogi to confess. “I say that you do. You hold a grudge against Jeremy Heere and the victim! That’s why you took revenge on both of them!”

“OBJECTION!” interrupted Williams once again. Michael groaned. “Don’t make me repeat myself Mr. Mell. The witness has no memory beyond several years ago. Explain how he would be able to grudge!”

_ I have to prove he's lying about his memory... Otherwise, it's going to be the same thing over and over until the trial ends! _

“Might I say something, Mr. Mell?” said the judge before Michael could press the witness again. “You’ve been saying the same thing now over and over. You’ve been bringing the witness’s memory of the past or lack thereof into question. But, does this really have anything to do with the current case?” Finally.

“Of course it does, Your Honor,” said the defense. “The witness has told us that he has nothing to do with this case because he has no motive. I say that this statement is a lie!” That caught the court’s attention alright.

“Mr. Mell! There is a serious problem with your claim! Or... are you saying... Are you saying you know who this witness is!?”

“Of course I do!”

“Now this is truly interesting,” said Williams with a smug little laugh. “I would like to know myself. Tell us, defense attorney. Tell us who the witness is.” Michael narrowed his eyes.

_ Don't play dumb! _

“His name is…” Michael pointed towards the witness. “Yanni Yogi, one of the former bailiffs in this very court! He was on the one suspect implicated in the infamous DL-6 Incident!” Michael hit the table with his hand. “If this man truly is Yanni Yogi, that means he would have a clear motive for murdering Hammond and framing Jeremy Heere!”

“OBJECTION!” shouted the prosecution. He waved a finger at the defense. “You’re jumping to conclusions again, Mr. Mell. Our witness is Yanni Yogi?” The SQUIP laughed. “How do you plan to prove that outrageous claim to the court?” Michael opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His mind was drawing a blank. “This is a court of law, Mr. Mell. You need evidence! And, once again,  _ the witness has lost his memory! _ ” Michael didn’t need a reminder of that.

_ This is it... I have to do this now! If I can't prove he's Yogi right here, right now... Then I've got nowhere else to go! _

“Michael,” Eliza whispered with urgency. She was standing nearly half a foot away. “ _ Can _ you prove it?” Michael’s mind was still drawing a blank. It wasn’t like he would let her know that.

“It’s okay, I’ve got this.” Michael cleared his throat before returning his attention to the court. He didn’t have this. There was only one thing that he could think of to identify the man. “That would be easy to prove. We just have to take his fingerprints, right? Then we just compare them to the file on Yogi from the DL-6 case.”

“I see.. that makes sense,” said the judge. Williams, however, just laughed harder. Michael didn’t like hearing it. What had he done now?

“Actually, Your Honor,” said the prosecutor. “That would be impossible.” Michael raised a brow. What was William claiming? Everyone had fingerprints. And throughout a person’s lifetime, they really didn’t change.

“Exactly how would that be impossible?”

“The witness has no fingerprints.” Michael faltered.

“Wh-What?!” he stuttered. That wasn’t possible. Everyone had fingerprints, right? Unless there was something that altered them… Michael’s eyes widened.

_ Oh shit. _

“Er... you see, before I worked as a caretaker, I worked at a chemical plant,” said Yogi, still keeping up his act. “I burned my fingers working with the stuff. Ayup.” No. The scar tissue on his fingers… It would prevent the fingerprints from reappearing once the wounds had healed. They were permanently altered from the prints of the past… the only prints Yogi had on record. Michael wanted to slam his head against the bench.

“Hmm... Well, if the witness has no fingerprints…” hummed the judge. “I guess we will not be able to prove his identity.”

_ No...! I… I refuse to give up! I already got a guilty once. I’m not going to let it happen again. _

“Well, well, Mr. Mell?” said Williams, smug as ever. “What do you plan to do?”

“Uh…”

“Hmph. It seems this case has been decided then.”

_ No! I know what happened! I know everything! I... I just can't prove it! But no... I can't let it end like this. I can't lose! There has to be another way! What do I do!? _

“There’s no other witness who can testify.” Williams smirked. “Unless you want to cross-examine the witness’s parrot for a little comic relief, hmm?”

_ Yeah, yeah, very funny. You're a sore winner, Williams.  _ A thought dawned on Michael. _ ... Wait a second... "Cross-examine the parrot"?  _ A sneaky smirk grew on Michael’s face.

“Michael, what’s with that look on your face?” Eliza asked. Michael didn’t reply. All it took was Eliza seeing that look in his eye to get what was going through his mind. “Oh no. Michael, that is the most ridiculous thing you could possibly do!”

“Oh, I’ve done stupider.”

“Name one time.”

“... Eliza, I don’t think you’re ready to hear that story.” In fact, Michael never wanted to tell Eliza that story. It would involve her yelling at him the same way Angelica did back then. He brought a hand down on the bench, returning is attention to the courtroom. “The defense would like to take Mr. Williams up on his proposal.” Williams wavered.

“My… proposal?” he said. “What are you talking about?” Michael snickered. Oh, Williams would regret his little joke.

“Your Honor, I would like to cross-examine the witness’s pet parrot!” As soon as those words left Michael’s mouth, the courtroom erupted into chatter and shouting. Several people were staring at the defense attorney as if he were insane. Jeremy had his head in his hands. True, it was something crazy. But at this point, it was probably the only thing Michael could do.

“This is a farce!” Williams shouted, his voice booming above that of the gallery’s. “I object!”

“OBJECTION! Need I remind you, Mr. Williams that you were the one who suggested I cross-examine the parrot? I have a right to do as you suggest!” Williams was quiet, sneering at the defense. He was right. Michael slammed a hand on the bench again. “I’m cross-examining that parrot, and you can’t stop me!”

“If you’re so desperate…” growled Williams. “Please. Be my guest.” Michael stared at him. Wait, was Williams actually letting Michael have his way in the trial for once? “Of course… if you go through with this… and nothing comes out of it, I hope you are ready for the consequences.”

“Let the parrot take the stand.”

“This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!” Either way, the judge let Michael follow through with the suggestion given to him. The parrot was brought into the court after a brief recess. A perch had been set up at the witness stand.

_ Williams's rigged every person's testimony, every piece of evidence... Except the parrot! She's my last chance! At least... I think so. _

“That’s… quite a bird,” remarked the judge. Polly preened her feathers. “Please tell us your name?” The bird was quiet. “Name!” Even a bang of the gavel wouldn’t get Polly to talk. “The witness is ignoring me.”

“I can’t believe you’re actually speaking to a parrot…” Michael heard Williams mutter.

_ It must hurt to be ignored by a bird.  _ When the judge finally got Polly to talk, all she did was squawk a few times and say ‘hello’.

“What are you going to do, Michael?” Eliza said in a hushed tone. He already had the gears in his mind working overtime. And it was only noon.

“Do you remember two days ago? When we met Polly?” Eliza slowly nodded. “I want you to try and ask her if we forgot something.” If Michael was right, Polly would respond with a chorus of ‘don’t forget DL-6’. That would be just what he needed.

“Why don’t you do it?” Michael glanced up at Polly. He could have sworn that the bird was staring into his soul.

“Because the bird hates me, that’s why.” Eliza sighed. She turned to Polly, putting on the same, gentle smile she had one when they first met the bird.

“Um… Polly?” she asked the parrot. “Haven’t we forgotten something?” The parrot stared at the defense. “Polly… haven’t we forgotten something?” All Polly did was squawk. She said nothing else. That’s not what was supposed to happen.

_ Why won't she say it!?  _ Michael saw Williams snidely chuckling from the prosecution’s side. It clicked.  _ Wait... Don't tell me Williams expected this! He couldn't have retrained the parrot in that short amount of time... could he!? _

There had to be some other way of getting Polly to talk. What other questions did she know the answer to? She knew how to say her name and the combination to the safe. There had to be the possibility to connect those things to DL-6. Michael looked over the little information he had on that case. After a minute, the answer was laid out before him.

“Eliza, see if you can get her to say her name.” Eliza only raised an eyebrow.

“Okay… Polly, what’s your name?” The parrot responded, crying out her name for the courtroom to hear. 

“Mr. Mell, I think we've established that this parrot is named ‘Polly’,” said the judge, unamused. “Does this have anything to do with her owner's identity?” Michael nodded. Why the judge seemed surprised, the prosecution laughed.

“Absolutely fascinating!” said Williams. “You claim that the parrot’s name will prove her owner's identity?”

“Michael, I think your bluffing went a little too far!” said Eliza with urgency.

“You can never take bluffing too far,” said Michael, making his assistant groan. He knew what he was doing. Sort of. “Besides, we’re here to prove that he’s Yogi.” Michael cleared his throat before turning his attention back on the trial. He picked up the DL-6 file.

“What I hold in my hands is all the information I’ve gathered on the DL-6 Incident. If you check the page labelled ‘suspect data’, you’ll see my evidence.” Michael flipped to the page in question. “It says that right after he was arrested, Yogi’s fiancée committed suicide! And her name was Polly Jenkins.”

"Polly Jenkins…” muttered the judge, "Polly!" Michael nodded.

“Exactly, Your Honor! He remembered the name of his dead fiancée! That's why he named his parrot after her!”

“OBJECTION! So what?!” shouted Williams. “My daughter has a dog she named Michael! Well, Mr. Michael Mell? Does that make you my daughter’s fiancée?! She's only seventeen years old!” Michael felt a shiver run up his spine.

_ Oh please. Even if I was into women, I wouldn't date that blonde deviant. _

“Hmm… Indeed. Alone, it is a little weak for evidence in a murder trial. We would need some other corroborating evidence…”

_ Where am I going to find that!? _

“Maybe we can get her to say the number of that safe…” Michael muttered, voicing his thoughts out loud.

“The safe?” Eliza repeated. Her eyebrows raised. Michael nodded. “Why?”

“At this point, I just want her to say anything.” Eliza sighed. She did what Michael asked either way. The parrot squawked loudly, replying the combination to the safe was 1228. 1228…? No that he thought about it, that number did sound familiar...

“... My, what a reckless parrot,” said the judge. Michael flipped through the Dl-6 case file before finding hat he was looking for. “Well, Mr. Mell? You aren't claiming that this number has something to do with the caretaker?”

“Ridiculous,” remarked Williams before Michael could get a word out. “How can the number to a safe tell us who the caretaker is?” Once again, the defense attorney brought out the DL-6 case file. As Williams stared at it, his hand ghosted over his right shoulder. “The DL-6 case file? What is your obsession with that case?”

“Check the case summary. More specifically, the date on which DL-6 occured,” said Michael. “It was December 28th. And 1228 just happens to be the code to the safe. Coincidence? I think not!”

“I see... it certainly is an interesting coincidence.” Michael grinned. The judge was in his side. “People often do set their secret numbers to dates.” Williams brought down a fist upon the prosecutor’s bench

“OBJECTION!” he shouted in frustration. “It’s not tangible proof! Example, I set my ATM card pin number to 0001 because I'm number one! This has nothing to do with a date! Nothing!”

_ You might want to change that now.  _ The judge brought down his gavel before the point could be debated further.

“That's enough! I think we've reached a conclusion here.”

“This is a mere coincidence, that's all!”

“True, that is a possibility. However, two coincidences at the same time seems more like a ‘pattern’ to me.” Michael grinned. His ridiculous plan… it actually worked. Somehow, it worked. The boat shop owner was summoned to the stand immediately. He stood there silent as the judge asked for his name.

“OBJECTION!” yelled the prosecution, as if if acting on desperation alone. Michael was about to destroy his perfect win record. “Wait! This witness, he doesn't remember…”

“No… it’s okay.” The witness straightened up as he spoke. Was he really…? Michael stared at him.  He looked completely different. This had to be the real Yanni Yogi. “I've accomplished what I wanted to do. I'm done.”

“W-Well...!” said the surprise judge. “Let me ask you again. Please state your name for the court!”

“My name... is Yanni Yogi.” Michael felt a sense of pride as he heard those words. He had been right. All along, he had been right. As Michael stood there in victory, the courtroom erupted into chaos at that little confession. It took ten minutes for the judge to calm everyone down.

“So was it you who killed Robert Hammond...?” he asked once the court was quiet. “And tried to frame Jeremy Heere for his death?” Yogi gave him a nod.

“... Yes. It was me. I did it.” Still, as the man confessed to his deed, Michael felt a sense of unease resting in the air. “... They put me on the witness stand fifteen years ago... Robert Hammond... he said I was mentally unsound. He told me it would make me innocent. Get me off the hook. So... I pretended to have brain damage... I was innocent, really! But he didn't believe me! We won the trial... But I lost everything. I lost my job, my fiancée, my social standing... ... Then, this year, fifteen years later... A package arrived. It was a letter... and a pistol. The plan was written out in careful detail. It was a plan to take my revenge on the people who ruined my life. I didn't care who had sent it. I thought this was my chance, after fifteen years, this was it! Finally, a chance to have my revenge on Robert Hammond and Jeremy Heere... I have no regrets.”

“W-Wait a moment! Revenge... against Jeremy Heere? What do you mean?”

“I'm not at liberty to speak on that matter. Why don't you ask Mr. Heere yourself?” Michael looked over to his client. Jeremy was doubled over in the defendant’s chair, his fingers woven into his hair. He was shaking. Michael didn’t understand. Yogi had confessed, thus proving that Jeremy was innocent. So… why did he look like he had just gotten a guilty verdict?

Yogi was taken out of the room in handcuffs. Michael hadn’t taken his eyes off of Jeremy. There was something wrong. He couldn’t get rid of that feeling. Something was wrong with him. Michael watched as Jeremy took to the witness stand. He was paler than normal. An expression of shock and realization painted his face. Maybe it was because of the confession they had just heard now. Michael prayed that it was the cause.

“There are a few mysteries left unsolved,” said the judge. Jeremy didn’t look up. “Still, you are cleared of all suspicion for this particular case. So I would like to pass judgment on the murder of Mr. Robert Hammond. Any objections?” The entire courtroom was silent, down to the prosecution. Michael raised an eyebrow. Williams was sending a sharp glare towards Jeremy.

_ I don't believe it! Why isn't Williams saying anything?  _ Michael was about to smash his precious win record into dust.

“Very well. This court finds the defendant, Mr. Jeremy Heere… Not Guilty! That is all. The court is—!”

“OBJECTION!” Michael felt his blood run cold.

_ That wasn't Williams… and it wasn’t me so... Wait, but that means…  _ Jeremy had brought his hands down on the witness stand. He looked like he was about to pass out right that very minute.

“Your Honor, I object your judgement!” said Jeremy, the lack of confidence in his statement clearly audible. “I’m not innocent at all! Yanni Yogi killed Robert Hammond for revenge. Revenge for what? For something that I did!” What was he doing?!

“Michael,” whispered Eliza harshly and in panic. Prosecutor Heere is going to confess! He’s going to tell everyone he was the curit in the DL-6 Incident!” Michael’s eyes went wide. He started to panic.

“O-OBJECTION!” Michael shouted in haste. “I object to Mr. Heere’s outburst! Judgement has already been passed!”

“OBJECTION!” called out Williams with a sharp snap of his fingers. “Didn’t something just like this happen yesterday too? I believe a certain witness raised an objection after a guilty verdict was passed. If we’re going by those rules, then we must listen to Jeremy Heere!” Michael silently cursed his argument yesterday. His own words and actions were working against him now. Unfortunately, the judge let Jeremy speak.

“For fifteen years, I’ve had a reoccurring dream. No, not a dream. A nightmare,” Jeremy told the court. With each word, the color slowly began to drain from his face. “It's a nightmare. That’s what I kept telling myself, anyway. However… after hearing all this here today… I know now that it isn’t a nightmare. Yogi wasn’t the killer fifteen years ago.”

“You mean... in the incident where your mother died?” the judge asked. Hesitantly, Jeremy nodded.

_ No… Jeremy, please. Don’t do it! _

“As I listened to the cross-examination and testimony… my memory… it started to come into focus,” Jeremy went on. “Everything became clear as day. The murderer…” Jeremy trembled with his voice. “The criminal in the DL-6 Incident…”

_ Jeremy, no! Please! No! Don’t! _

“It was me, Your Honor! I confess my guilt! It was me! I did it! I’m the guilty one in the DL-6 case! I… I shot and killed my mother!”

The uproar of the courtroom fell deaf on Michael’s ears. No. No, this wasn’t happening. This was not happening. Jeremy. He had just confessed. Michael shook his head. That wasn’t the truth. It couldn’t have been the truth. Jeremy Heere was not a killer! He wasn't a murderer!

“Order! ORDER!” It took five minutes for the court to calm down. “This is certainly unexpected! The defendant, declared innocent, is confessing to another crime! A crime for which the statute of limitations runs out today! I'm not really sure how I should deal with this…”

“Isn’t it obvious, Your Honor?” said the SQUIP. He had regained the cool compurse he had lost when the judge announced the ‘not guilty’ verdict. “We hold a trial. Right here. Right now. I say we try this man for his crime fifteen years ago!” Michael gritted his teeth.

“I think... I think I would like to take a five minute recess. During this time, I will consider the appropriate course of action to take. Court is adjourned!”

Michael raced out into the defendant’s lobby the second the gavel hit the podium. This battle was not over yet. Not by a long shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and the next chapter were originally one. I decided to split it in two because it didn't make sense with the way it went. So, y'all are getting one next week too. Hopefully by the week after, I'll have a couple chapters done that I can put on the backburner for a while.
> 
> *sigh*
> 
> Fingers crossed.

**Author's Note:**

> Most of the characters are already known that are used in the story. I want to try to give most Ace Attorney characters a matching musical counterpart from the well known to the least known. If anyone had an idea for a match-up, I would love to hear it. Some characters are really hard to place...
> 
> Also, Joe Incoris in not a murderer but I couldn't really think of anyone who I could use. Ned Vizzini is actually dead, though. He's the author of Be More Chill (the book) for those who don't know. I couldn't think of people to use right off the bat for the first killer and victim in the series, so these two got the rap.


End file.
